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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911880">Assets and Liabilities</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunan95/pseuds/Lunan95'>Lunan95</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Assets and Liabilities AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gertrude Lives, Canon-Typical Horror, Gen, M/M, dekker comes in later though owo, he lives too because michael saves him because he felt for it, season 1 AU, this is the story how Gertrude accidently adopted four assistants</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:15:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunan95/pseuds/Lunan95</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of killing Gertrude, Elias decides against it and he decides to torture her in the worst way; assign her four new assistants and the most idiotic ones to boot.</p><p>That should likely drive her insane. Either that or she'll probably sacrifices these ones too to foil rituals. He has already an on-going wager with Lukas about the outcome.</p><p>But he didn't expected Gertrude to <i>fucking adopt</i> them. However, this new development may give an interesting result and those assistants could be quite useful...granted if they live to see the end.</p><p>Season 1 AU. Updates every Wednesday and Saturday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gertrude Robinson &amp; Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood &amp; Sasha James &amp; Jonathan Sims &amp; Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Assets and Liabilities AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>418</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Gertrude Robinson and The Four New Assistants</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Why?" Gertrude said flatly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Because you have managed to lose all your assistants, Robinson." Elias said, there was little amusement in his tone. "They don't exactly grow on trees. So I am assigning you new ones." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude didn't say anything, she just settled to glare at Elias. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she must've figured this wasn't some of Elias' crap jokes for April's Fools which he seemed to believe was funny, but really wasn't. "Very well. Who are they?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias smirked, he never smiled. "I'm glad you asked. Jonathan Sims and Timothy Stoker are from the Research Department. Sasha James is from the Artefact Storage, she asked for a transfer. Oh, and Martin Blackwood from the Library." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Four assistants then? Well, four was better than three, at least. "Where are they then?" Gertrude asked, clearly not in the mood of Elias' usual taste of <em>"being an arse"</em>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, I sent them waiting for you at the Archives. By the way, young Sims might be a bit of a sceptic, but he is a good secondary in command, in case you're out and sacrificing another poor soul to thwart a ritual. Have fun ~!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude wasn't in the mood of the irritant Elias Bouchard, so she headed back to the Archives where three nervous and one rude assistants were waiting for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whether they were good at their work ethic or not...they could be quite useful, Gertrude decided. Besides, it's been quite empty with her original assistants gone.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So…” Tim started. “Where are you blokes from?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Research.” Jon said shortly, straight to the point. He may be the only one who was dressed professionally in a sweater vest, a button up and business slacks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, like me then!” Tim said cheerfully, he seemed to believe a grey hoodie with the text <em>“Local Bi-saster”</em> and faded jeans was an appropriate attire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha was semi-professional, in the least. She wore a dark skirt with black tights and a purple turtleneck sweater. “Artefact Storage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, sounds spooky!” Tim said. “Wanna talk about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, not really.” Sasha said. “I’ve seen you a couple of times, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t help it, I’m just that popular.” Tim grinned and stretched his arms. “I haven’t seen you around, though.” He said to the fourth one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh...ah, I’m...Martin. From the library…” Martin mumbled, obviously a little shy. He was short and a bit on the chubby side, but he looked very soft and charming with his freckles, curly ginger hair and a hand-knitted red sweater on a blue plaid shirt with hand-me-down jeans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim grinned. “I’d say he’s too cute for the library, Sasha! How about it, Sash? Polygamy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin stammered and blushed dark red, making the freckles stand out more. Sasha snickered.<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon sighed, frustrated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good, you’re all here.” A new voice joined them. It was Gertrude Robinson, the Head Archivist. “I have been meeting with Mr. Bouchard, I gladly accept you lot as my new assistants.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t sound that glad over it, Jon thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you four are starting today.” Gertrude continued. “Time to get to know you four. State your name and former department.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, me first!” Tim said before anyone could object. “Timothy Stoker, research assistant, kayaking expert and London’s most eligible bisexual bachelor-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Tim.” Gertrude said before he could continue more. “I did said only your name and former department.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha took it as her turn. “Um, Sasha James, formerly practical researcher from Artefact Storage. I applied for a transfer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I got the memo.” Gertrude nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Let’s hope these Archives are less...spooky for you. Next?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan Sims, formerly Head Assistant of the Research Department.” Jon started as professionally he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude nodded as she noted everything in her notepad. “Good, good...that means you must be Martin Blackwood.” She looked pointed at Martin, who looked very nervous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah-um...yes, I’m Martin Blackwood.” Martin stammered. ”I’m, uh...from the Library.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, good.” Gertrude said as she finished writing and closed her notebook. “Good, I believe we should all get along. Tim and Sasha are taking the desks on the right side of the working spaces. Jon and Martin, take the desks to the left. The kitchen nook is for everyone’s use. We need a volunteer, responsible for tea duty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Is that even important to the Archives?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you want to die by inhaling dust and suffer dehydration, then perish by all means.” Gertrude said sharply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon’s skintone made it hard to see if he could blush, but Martin notices his cheeks did get darker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could do it, I don’t mind.” Martin said hastily, hoping to save Jon from more humiliation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent.” Gertrude said. “The main task is following; you four research, follow up and record the statements in here. The ones that aren't possible to record digitally are instantly referred to me, don’t try it on your own until I say so. Understood?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma'am!” All four of the assistants replied, although none of them understood why. But she has already demonstrated why protesting against her was a bad idea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well. All of you are working from nine to five, weekends are off. Now, there will be big chances that I will be out researching on the fields a lot and I’m going to appoint one of you four to be the secondary archivist while I’m gone. I’ll give the answer in a week, I want to see your work ethics first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon straightened on his back, determined to show his best abilities on this.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>So the week began and the new assistants got to work. Martin had a hard time adjusting to his new workplace tasks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude knew his little secret, of course. It was so obvious that even a blind man would see it. Or it could be because of her perceptiveness. But she said nothing and decided to keep him around. Martin may display another side she yet had to unveil.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, Martin made very fine tea and that was worth keeping around. Oh top of that, he was a very sweet-hearted lad and it reminded her of someone she used to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha worked hard with a chipper attitude, Gertrude knew she would do well. She was very social and knew the right words to get the right information. She sat by her desk and talked on the phone with the museum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you very much. I’ll come by one and collect them!” Sasha said on the phone, satisfied with another job well done. Sasha should’ve actually been a great choice, but she was a little creeped out of the artefact storage and Gertrude understood it must’ve traumatized whatever the girl might’ve seen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Sasha was out, for her own safety.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim was...a good man although a little too happy on the pranks and meme references. He needed to grow up a few more inches and take this work seriously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he worked well, although Gertrude noticed within the week that he was very good at talking with the police and that was always useful when the force was too difficult with them. He also had a strange fascination with the architect Robert Smirke’s works, that would be useful later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there was...Jon. He was, of the four new assistants, the most dedicated worker. He made through research, his penmanship was perfected and he didn’t miss a single detail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not to play favorites, but he was the most favorable to be a secondary archivist. The only problem was of course his rude attitude and...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha, got it!” Jon exclaimed when he stood on her toes and pulled out a paper from the highest shelf. “Ah!” He shouted when the box of statements from the seventies fell over and he was ambushed by an avalanche of scattered statements over himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude sipped on her tea. Yes, there it was. Jon was the most ideal, but he did stupid moves at times. He could do better, he wasn’t an idiot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were a line between being stupid and doing stupid things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Jonathan tended to walk the fine line of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, there was time so he could do better.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But what made her more than a little irritated was his constant scepticism of the supernatural when it was clear as water in front of him, namely the statements. He tore them to pieces, dismissing them as delusional lies by the mentally unwell and drug users.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude supposed that beggars couldn’t be choosers.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All four of you have worked very well this past week.” Gertrude announced to them on Friday afternoon. “But it’s my tedious task to make a choice and Jonathan is the most qualified for secondary archivist.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha cheered on, not the slightest sad of the semi-competitive week. “Well done, Jon! I think you’ll do great!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin gave a small applause to Jon and shied away when Jon’s dark green eyes looked at him, slightly bashful over the praise. The moment was quickly ruined when Tim wolf-whistled at them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now that’s enough, Tim.” Gertrude said sternly to the tall, handsome lad. “Jonathan, you are a diligent and clever worker. But whenever I’m out on field research, I expect you to withhold the standards of the Archives perfectly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Understood, Gertrude.” Jon said, professional as always. “I will work after my best ability. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Be a dear and record these statements.” Gertrude said and handed over a smaller stack of statements, along with an old-fashioned tape recorder from the eighties. “You’ll find they’ll be important later. Don’t forget the follow up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon accepted them, but looked at the tape recorder with disdain. “Wouldn’t recording them on my laptop be better?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By all means, try if you manage to.” Gertrude said. “It has never worked on any modern technology down here, as far I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon rolled his eyes and went to his desk, preparing himself to work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the rest of you, back to work if you want your little happy hour.” Gertrude told the three others. “Now, chop chop!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And they went back to work.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>For they kept working together as a team for the next past week. Jon tried with everything to record the statements on his laptop, but nothing worked as he were met with significant audio distortion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was very annoyed by this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you tried with Audacity?” Martin asked helpfully while he served everyone their tea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon glared at him. “Yes, Martin! I have tried with Audacity, I have been installing and uninstalling it, I have troubleshooted the program several times and even tried to change microphones-!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, whoa!” Tim exclaimed from across the room, quick to defend Martin who fell silent. “Take it easy, it’s not his fault!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, but he ought to have some common sense since I’d attempt any solution before I have to use this!” He threw out the last word with venom and glared at the tape recorder on his desk. “...Martin, did you turn this on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No? I just came with you tea.” Martin said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon frowned. “I was so sure I didn’t turn it on...hmph, probably a defective flaw in this goddamn recorder.” He scoffed and turned it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha just came down the stairs from the library upstairs. “Hey, guys! I think I got some leads on that Anglerfish statement, Jon.” She exclaimed proudly and handed over her notes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well done.” Jon said and took the notes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim snickered from behind his monitor. “Anglerfish?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suggested having some creative names of the statements instead of their reference number, it gets a little confusing at times.” Sasha said. “Where’s Gertrude, by the way?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Meeting with Elias. I dunno what they’re talking about, he just came down here and she looked really annoyed.” Tim shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon read the statement and compared the notes, but still followed the discussion. “Gertrude has let me know that she may leave for field research soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so our second in command is gonna take over?” Tim smirked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please take this seriously, Tim.” Jon looked up and glared. “Thank you for the tea, Martin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“R-right, okay…” Martin said flustered and moved on, placing Tim’s tea cup with a bi icon on his desk. “You liked chai, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yup, thanks!” Tim said, chipper as always. “You’re such a great cupcake, Marto!” He praised and winked at Martin who blushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Jon felt more irritated than before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Gertrude returned back, sporting a pair of reading glasses and paid more attention to the files in her hands. “Martin, tea.” She said and walked past them to her office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“R-right!” Martin said, he hurried to the the kitchen nook and prepared tea for the head archivist. He quickly returned with a smaller, wooden tray with her cup of tea and a few of the biscuits Tim tried to sneak earlier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha looked after Martin who entered Gertrude’s office with a gentle knock and heard her affirmative answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She seems in a bad mood…” She whispered to Tim.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Martin.” Gertrude said and sipped on her tea the moment Martin set it down. “You got the biscuits I asked for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but Tim tried to sneak away some of them earlier despite me saying no.” Martin explained. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Naughty lad. Well, he’ll learn at some point.” Gertrude said casually. “How are you adjusting to the archives then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin flushed, reflecting on the past few weeks. “Oh! Well, it’s been...good. I mean, I don’t do a good job as Jon pointed out to me and he’s probably right-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude tutted. “Seems like he’s rude again. Someone ought to question his manners. Would you like me to talk to him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-no!” Martin blanched. “I-it’s not a big deal, I’m just inexperienced and I made mistakes, but don’t talk to him. He hasn’t done anything wrong-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So it’s like that, huh?” Gertrude finally set down her files and peered at Martin behind her glasses. She wore a knowing smirk. “You seem to tend to his needs more than anyone else, I’ve noticed. I’d take it as you’re fond of Jonathan then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin felt exposed, there was no use to lie because it seemed like she would know anyways. “I...yes.” Martin admitted. “He’s not bad. He’s smart, honest and...his voice is nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Gertrude said slowly, but she didn’t lose her knowing smirk.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon started to record the statements Gertrude assigned him and he begrudgingly had to use the tape recorder, despite his efforts to use modern technology which failed miserably.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Today was one of those days. Gertrude was out on field research and no one really knew what she did, but after the fifth time for that month she returned with some blood stains which she reassured it wasn’t her, they stopped asking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps they were better off not knowing, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, but he has caught the head archivist's expression when she was researching her files (which she never let anyone else read) and there was a cold, calculating gaze in her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had the feeling that Gertrude was much more than what appearances could tell. Such for that time he found a book without a title in a storage box and before he could open it to read, Gertrude had asked him, firmly, to hand it over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a book, what harm could it do?” Martin had asked, curious why Gertrude would take care of a seemingly useless book with tattered covers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude tutted. “Never judge a book of it’s cover, Martin. That’s lesson one for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he let it drop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin prepared tea for Jon, he had gotten used to recording the statements but that couldn’t be healthy to his voice. So he made some warm Earl Grey with exactly two sugars, no cream. Just the way Jon preferred it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Statement ends. While I am certain that Mr. Cavanaugh has good state of mind, I am more inclined that what he might’ve seen in the so-called mirror was a hallucination of a lost love and the guilt of not checking up on her fueled on his paranoia-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin tuned out what Jon was speaking in the tape recorder, he set down Jon’s cup with it’s saucer on his desk, quietly and sneaked out of the office Jon was borrowing while Gertrude was out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was actually frustrating about how Jon was so quick to dismiss the statements he recorded. Tim usually rolled his eyes at that with a humous smirk and Sasha, although she was more prone to believe in realistic reason, could tell something shady was going on in those statements.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Jon always tore the suspicions to pieces, as if he was thick into a state of denial. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly it made sense why Gertrude rolled her eyes over his scepticism, like a grandmother who was asked a very obvious question by her adult grandchild. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin closed the door silently and went back to his desk, continuing to work on his assignment of the week. Nothing made any sense about the Vittery case, he had a good knowledge of spiders and despite what Jon said, there was nothing reasonable in finding the poor guy encased in web.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin got the feeling that maybe his research wasn't good enough, despite Gertrude telling him that it was most important he did his best and he could leave it at that. She was pretty good at setting Jon’s ridiculously high expectations at ease, reminding him that they’re not expert detectives to solve a mysterious case and asked him to stop acting high and mighty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Martin had the itching feeling that this was something else, something more they might have been overseen. He stared at his screen, although not focusing on his notes. Then he made up his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tonight, he was going back to Vittery’s place. He was going to bring his torch and he was going to investigate more thoroughly, he wanted to find out what was going on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude would have agreed to that plan, she always said that she believed in more practical solutions in research (which Jon had protested against, claiming that the academic research was far more trustworthy).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he never realized he really should’ve told someone of his plan until afterwards.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin had been sick for a little more than ten days when Gertrude returned from her “field research” and she instantly noticed his absence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where is Martin?” She asked instead for a greeting, staring at his empty desk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sick with the flu.” Tim said from his desk, eyes focused on his computer monitor while his hands typed fast on the keyboard. “Poor lad, he wasn’t feeling good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm...has Martin told you this?” Gertrude asked while Sasha handed her over the finished following up research of her task. “Ah, thank you. Very well done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim shrugged. “Not really, Jon told us. He got a text from Martin a week ago or so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude frowned, something was very wrong in here. “And no one has actually seen him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim finally looked up from his screen, he looked mildly surprised. “It’s just the flu, Gertrude…” He said slowly. “Martin will be back maybe tomorrow or so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We haven’t actually visited him or seen him in person.” Sasha admitted. “We would’ve, but Jon said that he was told Martin didn’t want that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm…” Gertrude said. “I want to speak with Jonathan.” She said, suddenly very stern and firm.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Enigmatic Mr. Dekker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Gertrude sets Jon right about his behavior, Martin is saved by the enigmatic Mr. Dekker and Gertrude gets an update from her friend about whatever happened to someone they both know.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What?! I am taking this seriously, Gertrude! I am working the hardest of all of us!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude wasn’t impressed. “I am not talking about your ridiculous scepticism,” She started and Jon spluttered at that. “I am talking about Martin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon scoffed incredulously. “Martin? He’s fine, a few stomach problems won’t kill him.” He dismissed his co-worker’s absence. “Blessed relief, if you ask me. He only causes havoc to the archives’ order, not to mention that he is mostly acting like a useless ass most of the time-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>SMACK</em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did not expect Gertrude to suddenly hit him with a rolled up newspaper. Jon’s eyes widened and looked at the head archivist in shock, a hand covered his face’s left side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gertrude…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had it with your foul attitude, Jonathan Sims.” Gertrude said coldly. She never shouted, but her anger was quiet and very cold. It felt like the room could freeze at her tranquil fury. “Your usual pigheadedness is one thing that I can handle, but your ill-mannered attitude towards Martin is uncalled for. Someone should question your upbringing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is absolutely nothing wrong with my upbringing!” Jon protested, but he was still in shock that Gertrude had actually hit him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I beg to differ.” Gertrude said, still very disappointed in him. “You might think this is a normal job, after all and I’d let you believe that. But never throw away the lives of your friends like that. You never truly realize how important they are to you until they’re gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A thick silence fell over the office space. Jon felt the guilt itch at him from the inside when he replayed every moment he had with Martin and he felt so...awful over how cruel he had treated Martin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you lose someone, Gertrude?” He asked quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude had her back turned to his, she flattened the newspaper and set it on her desk. “You could say that. It teaches a harsh lesson to you. Death doesn’t discriminate nor play favorites.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon stared at her before he opened his mouth again. “I talked to him...Martin assured me he was doing fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you actually spoken to him other than using text messages? Called him?” Gertrude questioned and looked at him again, with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No…” Jon admitted. “I did try to call him, but the calls went unanswered. I didn’t worry about that and assumed he was just tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude didn’t answer at first, but her eyes narrowed at that. “And he lives alone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As far I know. He doesn't have any known siblings or is in a relationship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan. Which case was he working on?” Gertrude asked next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that was an odd question which had nothing to do with Martin’s sick leave. “The Vittery case.” Jon answered. “He’s doing following up research on Vittery’s statement about arachnophobia and why his corpse was encased in web.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm…” Gertrude said and didn’t elaborate. “Try to call Martin again, I’m going to take a look at his notes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, she left the office and left Jon alone with his thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon sat there for a good while, his hand still pressed against where Gertrude had hit him. It wasn’t that it hurt that bad, but it felt worse than it was. Jon hated to admit his feelings for anyone, he was a pretty closed person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he felt hurt in a way he had never felt before...at least not since his childhood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could distinctly recall a few rare times when his grandmother has slapped him, mostly because of his ill-mannered attitude. Jon knew he had deserved it because his vocabulary back when had been...crude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But something inside him ached more regarding how Gertrude hit him, it hurt even more than he had ever felt about his grandmother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon finally removed his hand, wincing when he felt how his cheek stung. Perhaps he shouldn’t piss Gertrude off, it felt more frightening when she was collected yet angry at him. It would’ve actually felt better if she shouted at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He brought up his phone and called Martin again, hoping he would pick up. How long had it been since he heard Martin’s voice? It felt too long ago, long enough to almost forget how he sounded like. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His call wasn’t picked up. Jon sighed as he cancelled his call.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Put this to your face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon almost jumped, Gertrude was back. She was reading Martin’s notes, but handed him an ice pack for him. Something inside him felt a little better, it seemed like she was no longer angry at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took the ice pack and nearly sighed in relief when he pressed it against his cheek, the cold soothed the hot sting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan, look at me.” Gertrude said and Jon did. “I didn’t hit you to be mean to you. But you must learn that there is a limit regarding what you can say about your co-workers. I have heard a great deal of what you have said about Martin, either in front of him or behind his back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon wanted to look down, he felt very ashamed of his behavior now when Gertrude pointed it out for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry…” His voice cracked, he hated when he sounded like that. He wasn’t a child, he did not cry like a lost boy in an unfamiliar retail store and he felt so ridiculous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are forgiven, but you should apologize to Martin instead.” Gertrude said. “Now, dry your tears. I have to make a call.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon hadn’t even noticed that he had been crying until he reached for his face with his free hand, feeling the wetness of tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This certainly had dug up a lot of feelings and memories he had shoved back in his mind, ignored for years.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Such a surprise, Gertrude.” Adelard spoke on his phone. “I could never guess you would call me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Adelard, I need a favor. I am too caught up in work, but time is of the essence.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gertrude told him from the other line. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard smiled. He understood that no ordinary person would see that, but somehow he had the feeling that Gertrude would know. “I am not currently busy, so I can do that. What do you need, my friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I want you to get to an apartment complex in Stockwell, London. It’s regarding one of my new assistants. The Corruption is targeting them.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard went cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So the Hive survived somehow, despite his efforts to destroy it? Well, he’d better get to work and fix this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you will text me the details as soon this call ends, but your assistant’s name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Martin Blackwood.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gertrude replied without hesitation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s important that you’ll bring him back unharmed, but if he gets infected, you know what needs to be done.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard understood what she meant. “Affirmative. I hope it will be as a last resort if he might be too gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so the call ended and not even thirty seconds later, Adelard received a text message of the address and exact details where the apartment was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time to get to work.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin was faint, drifting between consciousness as a cause of his sleep deprivation. Fear had kept him awake for days, tormented by the terror of being taken off whatever was outside his door and kept knocking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cans of peach might’ve kept him alive, but he was running out of food and he felt so exhausted. If Prentiss and her worms didn’t get him, then he was going to die here of either starvation or severe lack of sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alone. Forgotten. And no one would’ve known what became of him, not a single person did come for him despite his desperate wishes for anyone to save him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one was coming to save him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not Sasha or Tim. Not Gertrude...and not Jon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He jumped when he heard an unfamiliar voice. <em>“Martin Blackwood?”</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t Prentiss, it was an older man’s voice. He had never heard that voice before in his life, but he didn’t sound threatening or something in that direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You can come out now, lad. It is gone.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin hesitated a long while, his hand hovered over the handle of his front door before he finally worked up the nerve to open the door. He unlocked it and peeked out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no Prentiss, riddled with holes and her worm...companions. Instead, there stood a black man with greying hair, whom he had never met before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn't the tallest of men, but he had an intimidating posture and yet, held a gentle expression to Martin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be afraid, I won’t eat you. Martin Blackwood, is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin finally found his voice again. “Y-yes…” He stammered out, still weary of wherever Prentiss might’ve gone. “Where is…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gone.” The man answered, he seemed to fully know who or rather what he was talking about. “I didn’t manage to expose of the creature entirely, but I was able to chase it away with a little CO2.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin suddenly saw the man had his hands on a fire extinguisher, he recognized the bright red canister. “W-what...I don’t...this is-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take your time, it takes a while to understand.” He said, “But I haven’t introduced myself yet, forgive me.” The man still looked very intimidating, like no force in the world could bring him down and it reminded Martin of Gertrude. “Adelard Dekker. Forgive me for not shaking hands, since I must make sure of a vital detail first; has it touched you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, not at all!” Martin answered. “I...I ran from her the moment I saw her and I didn’t stop until I was in my flat, locking myself in...but they were trying to get through the spaces, so I covered them…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good, good.” Mr. Dekker nodded satisfied. “A very resourceful lad, you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin suddenly remembered his manners and moved aside, offering the gentleman to enter. “Sorry it’s a mess...I-I had been hiding here-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From the living hive with deadly worms, yes.” Mr. Dekker finished as he entered the flat, but he didn’t keep the canister away from himself. “Hm...it’s a nice little apartment, Martin. A tad isolating, if I may.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin stood in the living areas, unsure what to do as he watched Mr. Dekker close the door and he finally set down the CO2 canister down next to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, you are probably going to become uncomfortable about this, but I must make sure you are unharmed.” Dekker said, suddenly more serious than when Martin met him minutes ago now. “Sit down on that chair and take off your shirt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin didn’t hesitate to obey him, he was scared himself if he was bitten by a worm and didn’t know about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did everything Mr. Dekker told him to, but he did feel uncomfortable about the whole undressing business. “Um...how do you know about...Prentiss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, I didn’t know the Hive had a name. Well, Gertrude sent me when she returned and discovered you had been gone for nearly two weeks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude? Did she send him? For Martin?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every doubt Martin ever had about Gertrude not caring of their wellbeing was out of the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gertrude came back from her field mission and instantly sent her friend to find out about his whereabouts. She did care, although she mostly came out as stand-offish and abrasive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you seem to check out just fine. You’re not corrupted.” Mr. Dekker said calmly after he made a thorough check over Martin. “Apologies for intruding on your privacy, but I hope you’ll understand. One day you’ll thank me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well...thanks. I guess that day is today.” Martin said with a shy smile and pulled on his sweater again. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was bitten or not...or if my mind played games on me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr. Dekker nodded. “Well, you better pack your things and leave this apartment. Gertrude is waiting for you in the Archives.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin stared at him with widened, brown eyes. “What?! Wait...am I leaving my flat?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. This...Prentiss knows where you live and she may come back for you. You are not safe in this place. So pack what you need and go down outside the apartment block, I have a call to make to Gertrude.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin nodded. He was actually glad to leave the flat, to be honest and the thought of Gertrude sent this man to save him is what made him trust him more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just one question...who are you, really?” Martin asked curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm...I’d like to imagine myself as an exorcist, warding off evil from innocent folk.” Mr. Dekker replied with ease and typed a number on his phone. “Pack lightly, lad. I suggest clothes, shoes, books, personal items. My car is parked right in front of the building, a black KIA. Can’t miss it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t even an hour later and Martin sat next to Mr. Dekker who drove him to the Institute. He looked just as calm and collected since they met face to face not too long ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The car parked a vacant space and Mr. Dekker turned off his car. “We are here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin’s mind was a bit of a blur, he couldn’t tell if this was real or if he had died and gone to heaven where someone waited for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the Institute seemed far too real for even being dead, so it had to be reality and Martin didn’t think he had that kind of brain to make up a person like Mr. Dekker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“-but I recall the name Simon Fairchild as such of those who-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr. Dekker barged into Gertrude’s office, slamming the door open. Gertrude wasn’t there, but Jon sat by an additional desk at the side and was recording on a tape recorder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My God, Martin?! What the hell is...and who are you?!” Jon jumped off his chair and glared at Martin and the...stranger. “What is all this?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Took your time, didn’t you?” Gertrude suddenly said, she seemed to just entered the office from the document storage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr. Dekker gave an easy-going smile. “I’d like to perform my duties in every detail. He is not touched by the Hive. Although I failed to exterminate her thoroughly, I suspect she might’ve been tipped off that I was coming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude scoffed. “Figures. But suppose I should thank you for saving my assistant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should take care of them, I am rather fond of this one.” Mr. Dekker smiled at Martin who was a little flustered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s my business how I take care of my assistants, Adelard.” Gertrude stated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon was losing his patience. “Can someone please explain what is going on?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are coming to that point, Jonathan. Have some patience.” Gertrude waved off his concerns. “Actually…” She trailed off. “Martin, do you have something to tell?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin nodded slowly. “I...I think I have a statement to make. How should I-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan can take care of that, he is well-versed on how to take statements by now.” Gertrude said, never losing her cool and Martin admired that quality. “Adelard, I will need to speak with you alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Jon was taking Martin’s statement, Gertrude had some business alone with Adelard. “Updates.” She stated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Gerard is making a full recovery as we are speaking.” Adelard assured her. “It was quite lucky we caught on the cancer before it was too late. I could only leave now since he had been doing well on his own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well.” Gertrude said. “You exposed of the Hive back in Germany, but I can’t figure out how it spread to the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard gave a sigh. “I suspect the poor soul must’ve come in contact with the Hive by an incident. As you know, I haven’t been in the country until a few weeks ago.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am not pleased that the Hive has managed to escape. Something is up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I agree.” Adelard said gravely. “Go easy on the lad for now, he’s been very scared and alone for these last two weeks it seems like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude frowned. “Why hasn't he called in that case? If he was now in grave danger, he is supposed to contact me, regardless of the time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“According to what he told me during the ride, and what he is most likely telling in his statement right now, it seems like this Prentiss stole his phone.” Adelard said. “Something about he wanted to take a photo as evidence, but dropped his phone by accident.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude sighed frustrated and closed her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Martin...that foolish boy. That is how he can die, taking pictures as evidence because my pigheaded apprentice can’t understand this is real.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or he could be in denial.” Adelard suggested. “Do you think they’re done?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They are.” Gertrude answered. “I already Know what Jonathan has suggested for Martin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martin is staying in my Archives, where I can see him.” Gertrude said in her no-nonsense tone. “No more running around with his secret little investigations, breaking and entering and all that jazz. He has the right idea how to handle this, but he is not ready for what’s coming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard cleared his voice. “Gertrude. Do you have any intentions to let your assistants know about the Unknowing? The Stranger is going to attempt their ritual soon, it’s important we’ll stop it as soon as possible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’ll let them know when this whole Prentiss thing is over and dealt with.” Gertrude said. “Now, I need to talk to Elias about hiring some extra security. Jon will let Tim and Sasha know about this as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard watched as Gertrude left the document storage and he chuckled for himself. He knew Gerry was well on his own, he had taken all these months looking over the young man until he trusted Gerry could handle himself now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But...he found these assistants interesting, they were colorful and had their unique quirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was worth to stay for a while.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Holy shit, the response on this fic was amazing. I was blown away by so many kudos, bookmarks and comments. </p><p>Thank you all so much, I had no idea this was so popular. </p><p>Nevertheless, I keep what I promised and here is the second chapter. I had some trouble about how to write it, but here it is and I hope you guys aren't too disappointed. </p><p>I'm shifting here if Dekker is called Adelard or Mr. Dekker, but as you probably realize, it's depending on whose perspective this is from. Martin calls him Mr. Dekker while Gertrude is on first name basis because it's her friend.</p><p>But yay, Dekker saved Martin. And what else?</p><p>GERRY IS ALIVE TOO!</p><p>Didn't saw that coming? ;)</p><p>Anyways, I hope you guys are hyped for the next chapter because this is turning into the Season 1 finale. So keep an eye out for that. </p><p>- Lunan95</p><p>PS. I know that Gertrude physically hits Jon, but let's face it. She comes from a time when it was perfectly okay to hit children when they misbehaved and to discipline them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Quality Time and Bookshops</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gertrude takes out Jon on a field research for the first time and he gets distracted by something so casual. In meanwhile, Dekker spends quality time with the archival assistants; he spoils them with coffee drinks and enjoys their antics. Tim has theories about their weird boss Elias Bouchard and comes to the conclusion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have literally no fucking excuse about this terrible delay than an accident that sent me back. A month ago, I was on a swingset (shh, don't judge) and enjoying my Easter break. But the chain broke and I was thrown in the air around four meters, breaking some ribs.</p>
<p>It's all okay now, I lived and now, I'm finally back on track. But until summer comes, I'm going to be pretty busy because I must handle both writing and my schoolwork. Until next update (I promise, it will be soon), enjoy this little chapter. I think you'll like it!</p>
<p>There is no worms yet, though. Our gang can have some normality for a change.</p>
<p>Also, thank you all for the lovely comments, kudos, bookmarks and not least, the 1000+ hits this story got! You guys are champs! Thank you so much for your support and I hope y'all like this!</p>
<p>Don't forget, if you have suggestion of anything you'd like to see, just let me know in the comments. </p>
<p>- Lunan</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jon still didn’t know what to make out of this Adelard Dekker. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was suspicious of his nature, ever since his little...incident with a certain book in his youth, and he didn’t like how Martin seemed to treat Dekker like he was his hero.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was, technically.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And you didn’t find it suspicious that you could only text, but not call him?” Gertrude questioned when Jon addressed the dilemma or as she called it, “whining like a child”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...no.” Jon answered, now he felt embarrassed over it. He had been acting rather poorly when it came to Martin and how he was held hostage in his own flat by a murderous worm creature.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gertrude sighed, she was more than a little frustrated with him. “You still have so much to learn yet, Jonathan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me, but I was under the impression I was transferred to the Archives to help with sorting and organizing all these statements in correct order, not to fight monsters that suddenly exist for no reason!” Jon finally exploded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he held out longer than she thought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, they do exist for a reason. Like I’ve said, you’ll learn in due time.” Gertrude answered. It wasn’t time to tell him...yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon didn’t look pleased. “So I take it you will not explain to me what is going on?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure if you could take it.” Gertrude said slowly. “You do look a little frail.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Frail?!” Jon exclaimed. “I may be many things, Gertrude! But frail is not one of them!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gertrude gave him a smirk. “Well, prove me otherwise then if you’re so smart.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I will!” Jon scoffed, still undignified of being called practically weak. Yes, he lacked the upper body strength which Tim proudly had. But he had his intelligence and it was sharp as ever.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“In any event, have you had any luck relocating the statement I asked for?” Gertrude changed the subject swiftly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. We are still looking, but I’m very certain we have a statement from Prentiss here in the Archives.” Jon responded. “I am looking into it myself, since the others already have their assignments.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Let me know when you find it.” Gertrude remarked. “What have Elias said while I was out?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, he is a little...annoyed that you offered for Martin to stay in the Archives without asking him first.” Jon answered. “Something about he was the head of the institute if you forgot it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He may be the head, but these are my archives and I make the decisions of it. That’s in my contract.” Gertrude scoffed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon looked up from his laptop, frowning. “But Elias said-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, he talks so much.” Gertrude waved off his concerns. “He hasn’t done that much to give himself credit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon held back a snicker, it was improper to laugh at their boss like that and not to mention ill-mannered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of which, you are very well-versed in how the system in the archives works by now.” Gertrude suddenly said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon had no idea where this was going. “Well...yes. You trained me for these past weeks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How about you join me for a little errand later?” Gertrude smirked. “I could use your input.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although Jon never showed it physically, he felt like he could vibrate. Gertrude was taking him out on a field research? His desire of proving himself for his boss was evident (or transparent, as Tim teased him about).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course Jonathan Sims wouldn’t turn down such a golden opportunity like that!</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Martin hadn’t gone out since Dekker brought him to the institute and Tim decided something had to be done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come ooooon, Martin!” He sighed dramatically while Sasha snickered at his threatrics. “How can you live without sunlight and fresh air?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin sighed and peeked over his computer monitor. “Tim, I’ve told you before. I can’t go outside with Prentiss out there and Gertrude said it wasn’t safe for me-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But if we’re with you?” Tim injected with a hopeful grin. “Marto, you can’t miss out Happy Hour. It’s Friday! It’s basically our tradition to go out, find the most rundown pub with the cheapest beer and get wasted to celebrate the weekend!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sasha snorted. “And it’s always me who has to find the cheap pub.” She added and rolled her eyes. “But seriously, Martin. You haven’t gone out for ages and even Jon is getting concerned.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“See!” Tim gestured with his hands towards Martin. “Look at his little pale face, it used to look so healthy and fresh with all those lovely freckles and now, they’re beginning to fade! The horror!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin sighed softly but smiled. “If I say yes, will you stop being a drama queen?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Drama king, Marto. And YES!” Tim made a fistbump in the air. “You won’t be disappointed, mate!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel like I’m gonna regret this.” Martin remarked dryly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then you finally know how I feel about Tim now, Martin.” Sasha grinned and Tim gasped in mock despair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He started to whine like a kicked puppy. “Sasha, my queen. My darling rose. My boat in the stormy ocean! How can you laugh at me?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I just did.” Sasha answered with a wink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dekker suddenly returned to the archives, looking calm and nice as ever. They had warmed up to Gertrude’s friend, he was the type someone might call for “dad friend”. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if it doesn’t just warm my heart to see these three lovely assistants, working so hard on a Friday afternoon. You deserve something good, after all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tim’s eyes lit up. “No...way!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You brought Starbucks?!” Sasha squealed delighted and nearly jumped in her desk chair. “But...you don’t know what we like?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I took the opportunity to ask Gertrude what you young folks liked. Would you know, I have it noted on a list now.” Dekker answered. “Let’s see...a caramel latte for Sasha.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sasha took her latte happily. “Thanks!” She flashed a happy grin. “Dekker, you’re my new favorite now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sasha!” Tim wailed dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And Tim, you like a good iced white chocolate mocha, don’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now it was Tim’s turn to grin ridiculously big. “Give me, give me, give me!” He waved with his hands and got his order. “Thank you!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And Martin, since you haven’t been able to go out for a cinnamon roll frappuccino, it must come to you!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin accepted the take away cup and felt like he could cry of gratefulness. “Oh...Mr. Dekker, this is too much!” He said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I took the liberty to shop for some pastries at the recently opened bakery nearby. Remember, this is for everyone and save a few for Gertrude and Jon when they come back.” Dekker smiled at how the assistants helped themselves, excited over the glazed cinnamon rolls and doughnuts filled with strawberry jam. “Or she’ll be rather cross at me for not saving her something.” He mused.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Does Gertrude like cinnamon rolls?” Tim blurted out before he could stop himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who doesn’t?” Dekker chuckled. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Remember what I said.” Gertrude told Jon, she shut off the engine of Dekker’s borrowed car and took the keys. “Don’t. Touch.<em> Anything.</em>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon sighed, more than frustrated over how his boss always treats him like an unruly child. “Yes, I heard you the first time. I can follow a simple direction, Gertrude!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Don’t forget how the curiosity killed the cat, Jonathan” She said and they left the car as they began to walk towards a bookshop.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon looked behind them at the parking lot and sighed. “Why is the car parked so far away from the actual destination?” This just looked stupid!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Lesser risk for it to be stolen, I don’t fancy paying Dekker a new car. That specific model of KIA isn’t exactly easy to come by.” Gertrude said. “Also, it was cheaper to park there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well. Jon figured he should be thankful that Gertrude wasn’t that hard to understand sometimes. She could be reasonable enough and frankly, it felt like she was going easy on them. It frustrated him over how Gertrude sometimes withheld valuable information from him, she acted like he was frail and couldn’t handle the truth at certain times.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It did make him wonder whatever happened to the previous assistants she had. No one can just vanish out of the blue, after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They walked inside the bookshop and Jon looked around the high bookshelves, every shelf was filled out and everything was sorted by genre. He thought that he’d do a much better job, by sorting them in alphabetical order.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember what I said.” Gertrude muttered before she went to talk to the bookshop keeper and Jon rolled his eyes. He took a walk around, hands in his pockets and examined the goods. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was somewhat an old fashioned bookshop, he could distinctly smell the scent of old pages and dust. This took him back in time when he was a young boy, looking around the bookstore with his grandmother who gave him some money to spend on a new book.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He never read books by the same author, Jon knew he’d be bored and judging by a familiar writer’s style, he’d already figured out what was happening before the story was over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon passed the section with poetry; he never understood poets and he heard enough at work since Martin was a vivid admirer of <em>Keats</em> of all things.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was just about to turn his attention to the history genre when something caught his glance. A children’s book in the horror section. He wanted to scoff at the ridiculosity; who in the Lord’s name would put a children’s book among the horror fiction books?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In meanwhile, Gertrude bargained with the bookshop keeper for a while and got her hands onto a bag of old books which no one wanted to buy and the owner thought they were worth a fortune because of a red stamp. But she got it cheap, anyways.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jonathan.” Gertrude called, but no Jon turned up. “Jonathan Sims!” She repeated, more firmly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He still hasn't returned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I swear, that silly boy…” Gertrude muttered and searched for him. She found him kneeling next to a bookshelf, his entire attention was focused into sorting the books in correct order.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She really should’ve known better than bring him to a bookshop. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gertrude crossed her arms and cleared her voice, which finally caught his attention and Jon looked up. A dark color spread at his cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah...Gertrude.” Jon began, sounding very sheepish.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I told you to not touch anything.” Gertrude stated.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon looked extremely guilty and looked down at the books, as if it was them who forced him to sit down at the floor and sort every book in the children’s section.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you were going to put everything in order, I’d almost guess you would’ve chosen to do that in the science fiction section. Not the children’s genre.” Gertrude finally said with a raised eyebrow and Jon blushed furiously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gertrude sighed and shook her head. “Very well. Finish up what you’ve started.” She said and walked over to an armchair. Then she settled down comfortably and started to read one of the books she just found.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hm, <em>Ex Altiora</em>...ah, exactly the one she has sought after.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Dekker had a good time with the archival assistants, he joined them for lunch at some fast food joint and Tim was telling about a great party he was once at.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sasha kept correcting Tim when he was apparently exaggerating the details and Martin hid his smile in his drink, he was a very shy boy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So it was a rave?” Dekker asked and Tim nearly spit out his drink while Sasha laughed at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?! No! That’s not a rave!” Tim exclaimed. “It was just some house party, we had drinks-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dekker didn’t give up. “A rave.” He concluded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Tim shouted and nearly drew the attention of every patron inside the joint. “A rave is like at nightclubs, not a house party with vodka shots and strip poker!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dekker frowned, which made it more hilarious. “Then what is a rave if not a party?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh...how the hell do I explain this shit?” Tim groaned and threw his head back, frustrated. Sasha just kept laughing at his antics.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay!” Sasha finally pulled herself together. “A rave is like a party at a nightclub, it’s pretty dark except for all these spotlights and laser lights in every color. There’s always some funky music with techno beats and the bar has the best drinks. Pity Tim won’t bring me there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s expensive, Sash!” Tim said. “Blood hell, we’re better off with the pub’s happy hour!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re just cheap, that’s all!” Sasha smirked and took a big bite of her burger. “Anyways, I heard Rose at the reception talking that Elias is considering organizing some kind of Halloween party. Now that’s weird!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad boss?” Dekker suggested with a coy smile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he’s just weird!” Sasha shook her head. “We almost never see the guy and when he does turn up, Gertrude is always pissed at him for some reason.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin shrugged. “Maybe she just doesn't like him.” He suggested.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Join the club, I don’t like him either!” Tim snickered and raised his drink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What-but...why don’t you like him?!” Martin spluttered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Once when I was in Research, I came in and wore one of my band t-shirts. He saw me and forbade me from coming to work if I didn’t wear the “proper workplace attire” like button-ups and ties! I mean, what kind of shit is that?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Also he has never said a word about how we dress, now when we’re in the Archives!” Sasha put in. “Come on, Martin! You wear knitted jumpers and old sneakers all the time, Elias doesn’t even blink an eye at that!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tim hummed in faked deep thoughts. “Alright, lads! Theory time! So either Elias could be replaced by a twin who doesn’t care how we dress-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Martin raised an eyebrow, he had a bad feeling about this. Everytime Tim has “theory time”, he always comes up with the most unlikely or absurd suggestions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Or?” Dekked played along with Tim’s games, he was very curious of where this was heading.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <span>“Or he’s banging someone!” Tim exclaimed and slammed his fist on the table for emphasis, making their drinks tremble by the force. “There’s only as much a guy can have pent up!”</span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span></span>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martin blushed scarlet red. “Tim Stoker!” He shrieked over Sasha’s delighted giggles and Dekker’s amused chuckles.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Renewed Faith and an (perhaps) Extinct Identity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which Gertrude learn how to trust again, Jon and Sasha has a discussion regarding how the word calliope is pronounced and Dekker learns about the identity of a girl who may be a victim of the emerging Extinction.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Martin was officially living at the Archives now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias hadn’t been happy about the document storage being used as a living space for an archival assistant, but Gertrude didn’t give two shits about what he said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her archives, her rules. That was the deal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back to now, she took the opportunity to come in early as the sun hasn’t even risen yet and Martin was still asleep on the cot inside the document storage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude considered her assistants, because it was now when things were getting serious and soon, there would be no return to the life they once knew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once, she had an assistant she trusted more than life and it bit her back in the worst way. It was a betrayal she had never seen coming and it had happened behind her back, something that made her very angered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She never forgot Emma’s betrayal. It had set as her ground rule to never trust anyone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now, she was in a situation where she had four young assistants and they were pure, innocent and ignorant of what would become. Gertrude had hated the fact that Elias dumped them on her, to remind her that he was in charge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What a dick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now Martin has been threatened by this entity Jane Prentiss and she couldn’t hold them in the dark anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon was perhaps a little...sceptical, but he was driven and craved knowledge. Endlessly chasing  after the truth, which was very Beholding of him. Sasha was probably the same, extremely curious of what the truth would lead to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude hasn’t seen any Beholding in Tim yet, but she thought that Martin was far too Lonely for her liking. Which was also why she asked Dekker to especially watch over him if she didn’t have the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when she made her resolve. She needed to trust these young people, because they were in this together and since they had all signed on the contract as archival assistants, it was binding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t an easy choice for someone who lost their faith a long time ago, but Gertrude made her decision. Perhaps her assistants could give something she’s never found before, something that may be worth to keep fighting for. She was quite fond of them now.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude was out again. On business only she did and this time, she asked Jon to stay behind and read the statements.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where she went, he had no idea. His boss was a little...mysterious. But Jon was dutiful and determined to present a good work, so he continued on his day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Currently, he was reading a specific statement regarding a calliope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha, who was going to hand in her finished following-up, stopped for a while and couldn’t resist making a comment. “I thought it was pronounced <em>“Kah-lee-o-pee”</em>?” She remarked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon looked up, mildly surprised. “Sasha. You’re...back early. I thought you were trying to get a hold of those police reports for the Harold Silvana case?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tried and succeeded.” Sasha said smugly. “They were actually quite helpful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Jon said and wrecked his mind for some...positive acknowledgement. “Well. Good work.” He said and cringed at his words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, do we know if it’s pronounced <em>“Kah-lee-o-pee”</em> or <em>“Kuh-ly-o-pee”</em>?” Sasha continued, she most likely found this conversation very funny and Jon has to agree. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon held off a slight chuckle escape from him. “I have also heard it said as <em>“Kah-lee-ope”</em>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That made Sasha laugh. “Seriously? By who?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Americans.” Jon said with evident distaste.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Sasha nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon cleared his voice and continued. “As far as I can tell there isn’t a “correct” pronunciation. But they were originally named after the Greek muse Calliope, so-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are people going to understand that it’s from Greek mythology?” Sasha interrupted with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon rolled his eyes. “If they’re working for the Magnus Institute, then I would hope so.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha was heading towards the door, but not before she looked back at Jon with a smirk. “I’ve just heard it more often as <em>“kah-lee-o-pee”</em>.” She said before the door closed behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was nice, with a good conversation to remind him that he wasn’t alone. Jon relished the calm silence for a few seconds before he resumed his task. “Statement continues.” He said into the tape recorder.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple of days later, Adelard returned to the archives after a little “investigation” as he called it. “Gertrude, I need to speak with you alone.” He knocked on the door which was on ajar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Door’s open, Adelard. My assistants are out for lunch.” Gertrude answered. “Blessed relief if you ask me, I’m still quite cross at Tim for the moment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard smiled at the mention of the funny assistant. “It was just a prank as far I understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Putting a rubber spider in Jonathan’s desk drawer wasn’t that funny.” Gertrude scoffed irritated. “Not only that isn’t funny, it’s not very original either. He ought to do better for April’s Fools next time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That aside,” Adelard began and closed the door behind himself. “Has Martin mentioned anything about his background, such as family?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took her a moment to think. “He has an ill mother in Devon and the father left his family two decades ago. Nothing else to note and Jonathan once said he has no siblings. Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, on my way back here, I crossed paths with a researcher upstairs. He seemed to know Martin and asked me where his “sister” was.” Adelard explained. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude frowned. “Sister? As far I’m concerned, Martin doesn’t have a sister.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was what I was about to say, but I got curious and asked whom he meant.” Adelard continued. “This researcher, David, said her name is Jenny Blackwood.” He dig something from his satchel bag. It was a video camera. “This is evidence, he told me. In case she is “forgotten”, in his words.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Turn it on.” Gertrude said and Adelard nodded, he started the video camera and pressed play on it. On the little screen, they watched as a video started.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The screen showed the library in it’s display, with high bookshelves filled up and various researchers studying the books as they wrote in reports or typed in their computers. At the corner of the screen, the date 03/17/2015 was shown.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The person who recorded the video spoke, it sounded like a young man with a slight Scottish accident. “This is the library of the Magnys Institute, where we research the occult and supernatural. And that,” the camera faced a young girl in university-age. “Is the lovely Jenny Blackwood, a gifted soon-to-join-us researcher!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The girl looked up to the camera, frowning. She had fair skin with freckles on her cheeks and chocolate brown eyes. She wore curly, orange hair in a pixie cut. Her attire was a yellow, knitted sweater with a white collared shirt beneath and around her neck rested a golden pendant of a sun with an opaque stone in the middle and it’s chain were also of similar make.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dave, what are you doing?!” She hissed. “This is a library!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dave, the filmer, chuckled behind the camera. “Just a little documentary, Jenny! So how are our fearless leader doing today? Doing some work for our mysterious bossman upstairs?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Elias asked me to investigate this old mansion, I think there may be an artefact there-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard paused the video for a moment. “Elias...isn’t he your boss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he is.” Gertrude answered, her eyes turned cold. “So. He knows of her existence. Doesn’t explain why Martin doesn’t recall his own sister. Continue the video.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But of course.” Adelard agreed and pressed play again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So where are you heading this time and what lie will you tell your big brother?” Dave asked with a badly hidden snicker.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jenny sighed. “Well, I have to travel to Sussex and stop reminding me of my shame. Martin trusts me well enough, which is why I feel so ill whenever I lie to him. I’ve already told him that me and some “friends” are going on a weekend trip. Except I’m going alone and Elias is already covering the expenses.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you ever gonna tell Martin what’s really going on?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-!” A scarlet blush spread over her face. “I don’t know! What am I supposed to say?! “Hi, Martin. Guess what, I have a part-time job at your workplace where I investigate spooky places and bring cursed items, but I also have a slight romance with your boss. Ta-ta!” Just like that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dave laughed behind the screen. “Yes, precisely! And then you’ll get grounded for the next twelve months!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re a prick, Dave! Why am I friends with you again?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cause you love me! And I’m like your personal library access.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jenny rolled her eyes, playfully. “Well, I’ll give you this. You make great coffee. I appreciate a guy who can make good coffee!” She remarked and closed the open book she just researched, which was about the history of Sussex towns. “Well, I have the information I need and it’s time to head out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She rose up from the desk and packed the book and her notepad in her backpack, which seemed to be packed lightly with change of clothes, a set of toothbrush and toothpaste, a torch, ropes and a tape recorder in yellow and black.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re leaving already now? Does Martin know?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, he already knows by now. It’s Friday and if I leave already now, I might return early on Sunday.” Jenny said and zipped her backpack closed. “Okay, the train leaves soon and I have enough money for food and what else.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then I ought to say goodbye-” Dave’s hand, a pale hand reached for hers. But Jenny shook her hand. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nope. You know what I have said!” Jenny sounded too chipped and that’s when the picture began to glitch as the camera faced her again. “Don’t say goodbye.” The picture began to glitch worse and the sound grew distorted before the display returned normal for a solid five seconds. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>I hate goodbyes.</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>” Then the video continued to glitched and the static grew worse before the video’s screen turned blue.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a complete silence between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Adelard.” Gertrude started. “Is this what you think is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I only have theories yet to be confirmed, but I believe this may be a work of the Extinction.” Adelard replied. “As far I have gathered, it is yet to fully emerge. But if it has taken the girl and erased every trace of her except for one…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If the girl proves to be a full fledged avatar, then there is a chance it already has emerged by now.” Gertrude started. “However, I don’t believe that is the case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard looked at her, a question on his mind. “We yet need to confirm if it’s the Extinction, judging by my wild goose chase in Germany.” He continued. “We can rule out the Stranger in this matter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If the Stranger took her, the entire video would’ve been completely distorted and shown nothing at all.” Gertrude confirmed with a nod. “However, the Eye tells me one thing and while I’m not too keen to use it, I am sure it’s not false.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what does the Beholding tell you, my friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude gazed with him with a serious, calculated look. “That she is alive.” She said with finality. “Jenny Blackwood lives, but she is too far away to See. Clouded by darkness.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In any event, I will pursue knowledge about this girl.” Adelard said and rose up from his chair. “You agree then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude gave him a firm nod. “Adelard, find out everything about this girl. School records, bank account information, distant relatives- use every resource to find out who she is and possibly about her whereabouts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Understood. Regarding the Extinction, however?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After your near fatal misadventure in Germany, we’ll put that on hold.” Gertrude instructed. “Adelard, there won’t always be a strange yellow door to save you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave her a fond smile. “I understand that, my friend. Now, I am off to search for the girl. Relay my apologies to your assistants since I can’t join their happy hour?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Naturally.” Gertrude said and Adelard closed the door behind himself, leaving her alone with her thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A girl whose existence is suddenly forgotten. She is supposed to be Martin’s little sister, but he has never mentioned a sister before. Then again, she hadn’t exactly asked him about the matter. There was also a good possibility that Martin withheld information.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite his friendly and soft looks, Gertrude had an inkling that Martin was pretty crafty and more cunning than he let on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not supposed to be out here, you know.” Gertrude suddenly said as she sensed someone in the shadows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stranger chuckled lightly. “Hostile as much, Gertrude?” Leitner asked. “Or perhaps you’re concerned about the girl you and your friend discussed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elias has known about her this entire time. I am...a little angry now.” Gertrude said, calm as ever but inside, there was a raging storm. “So. I know you lurk around here when I’m not here and that’s a stupid move. What do you make out of my assistants?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re amusing. I never took you for the soft type, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Soft?” Gertrude repeated, very irritated. “I am never soft, you take that back.” She scoffed. “You should watch your back, Jurgen or perhaps the director might catch you in the act. He’s not idle fond of you at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leitner was already heading towards the trapdoor. “I’ve gathered as much.” He remarked before he vanished to his hiding place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The trapdoor closed after himself and Gertrude sighed, frustrated at the current events.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Prentiss, Extinction, a vanished girl…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seems like the world is really out to get her recently.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, I know it's been a long while since my latest update and I have suffered through both writer's block and idea drought. But the recent news regarding Season 5 of Magnus Archives revived my desire to write and I was hit by a big inspiration, so I managed to write neat chapter <i>in less than one day!</i></p><p>Praise the cosmic powers for little miracles, eh? Anyways, this is where the plot is starting to settle in and despite what I have written before; yes, Jenny Blackwood (my most featured TMA original character) is in this story. Although she won't come in until later. <b>Much</b> later.</p><p>It's now referenced that Dekker was saved by a "yellow door" and you may see more details about tjis in the next chapter, which isn't far away since I've already begun writing on it.</p><p>While we're at the end of this chapter, I'd like to thank all of you for supporting and reading this story. Thank you for all the comments, the kudos and bookmarks. I really appreciate every word and kudos you've sent me.</p><p>- Lunan95</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Yellow Doors and an Evil Worm Lady</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which Gertrude has to take Sasha's statement about a distorted experience, the reliable Dekker presents his findings about a "lost" girl named Jenny Blackwood and Michael the Spiral visits Gertrude.</p><p>But what will happen if Prentiss attack and <i>Gertrude is not there?</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Gertrude was woken up in the middle of night by her phone ringing out loudly. She never used it for anything else than it’s sole purpose which was being contacted or making contact. So naturally, she assumed the worst if anyone called on this ungodly hour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Robinson.” She answered firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>“I-it’s me, Martin.”</em> Oh. Martin. <em>“Sasha is here. I think-I think she’s injured by something, she says she has a statement to make!”</em> Martin’s voice was very urgent and on the limit to nearly panic. <em>“Jon is already on his way-”</em></span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m on my way.” Gertrude said and walked over to her dresser. “Take a deep breath and call Tim. If Sasha says she has a statement to make, it must be serious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>“What should I do then?”</em> Martin asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tend to her injuries and basically just take care of her in the best way you can. You are a good caretaker if anything.” Gertrude said, cool as a cucumber like always. But she was concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>“Okay, see you soon.”</em>  Martin said and hung up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude was dressed in less than an half an hour and left for the institute. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Gertrude came to the institute, it was already sunrise and in the archives, her assistants were gathered. Tim was sloppily dressed and yawned non stop as he sat on a desk (Martin’s, actually).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon’s attire was the same as yesterday, Gertrude suspected he'd pulled an allnighter and neglected any sleep. Martin sat close to Sasha, tending to her shoulder which was bleeding from a...hole in her exposed skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude frowned. “What happened?” She demanded answers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin was about to answer, but Sasha beat him to it. “I...may have stumbled on Prentiss’ worms, Gertrude.” She started and hesitated before she continued. “I need to tell you something...uh, a statement.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well.” Gertrude said slowly. She didn’t like to record statements from her assistants, she had hoped it was one time only from Martin. But it seems like it was inevitable. “I have a tape recorder ready. Alert me when you’re ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sasha nodded quickly. “As soon Martin’s done here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Make sure you clean it thoroughly, Martin.” Gertrude told him and got a hasty nod in return. “Tim, we all need to wake up, so go buy coffee. Jon, go with him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me? I’m not going away from this.” Jon protested at once, very displeased of suddenly being sent away. “I’m staying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude gave him a calculating look. She really didn’t want to expose more of the Beholding-related things, especially not when he was too curious to know. But if she was standing firm on her decision, then he’ll protest worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And she had no patience with such things at this hour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...get your notepad then. You’re going to note down the important key details then.” She said and walked inside her office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To her surprise, the tape recorder was already turned on and most likely, it had recorded their entire conversation.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She settled down behind her desk and waited for Sasha. Jon was already at his own desk at the corner, pulling forth his notepad from the drawer and prepared with a pen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sasha, are you sure you want to do this now?” Gertrude asked as soon Sasha came in and sat in the chair, facing her. “You can take a few days off to recover.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her assistant shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Tim’s getting coffee and I rather want this done while it’s still fresh in my mind.” Sasha declined her offer. “Besides, it’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine. Can we begin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so Sasha began her tale. Gertrude listened to every word her assistant told and while it was well disguised, she was very surprised by the mere name Michael.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, it became clear that the name belonged to the same...once-person she knew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude didn’t interrupted her a single time, quietly taking in Sasha’s words and the silence were occasionally disturbed by Jon’s pen, scribbling on the paper sheet of his notepad. She didn’t need the Beholding to know that he was listening to every word, sating the hunger of his own curiosity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It came as a surprise that Michael had saved her assistant despite the Distortion would obviously know that Sasha was under her protection. It must’ve known that her assistant was associated with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Gertrude was more concerned of Sasha’s reckless decision during her little adventure, she had counted with Sasha would be the most level-headed of her assistants. But it seemed like she had more in common with Jon than she had originally thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t help but silently wonder what the Spiral’s intentions would be now, when it had saved Sasha from being Corrupted and now, she was in debt to it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regardless of this, Gertrude listened through the statement until Sasha said her final words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Statement ends.” Gertrude said, out of formality and sighed, it was more serious than she had hoped. “Sasha, what do you make of this...Michael?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha considered the question for a while. “Well...I’m kinda convinced that it...it did save me, so I guess I’m in debt now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm…” Gertrude said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So...what do you think?” Sasha inquired, expectantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have thoughts about it, many.” Gertrude said, being as honest she could without alarming her assistants any further. She knew it was not time to tell them...yet. “I can give my word on that we’ll look into it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha turned to Jon. “What do you think about this, Jon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” Jon seemed flustered of being asked for his opinion regarding the statement. “I really don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> quit, you know.” Sasha suddenly said and Gertrude watched her, not saying a word. “We, we all should. I don’t think this is a normal job, I, I don’t think this is a </span>
  <b>safe</b>
  <span> job.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps you are right.” Gertrude said. “Sasha, do you want to quit?” As much Gertrude wished she could give Sasha or the others an out from this, she Knew it was impossible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which had been why she wasn’t pleased with Elias trapping these youngsters here and not bothering alerting her of the changes until they already wrote their names on the contract. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Sasha finally said. “I’m just… I’m just too damned curious, I suppose. What about you?” She turned to Jon who considered it while he slowly shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Jon replied. “Whatever’s going on, I <em>need</em> to know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Gertrude knew it was no point of return, regarding these two. She wished she could have the courage to tell about how dangerous curiosity was and how it slowly ensnared, corrupted her original assistants and one certain person in particular.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sasha, you need to get some rest. I’m sure Martin had nothing against to let you sleep for a few hours on the cot in the storage.” Gertrude said. “Jonathan, you are returning home for some actual sleep because if you think you can fool me, you’re wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon spluttered offended. “Fool you with what?!” He protested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wear the same clothes since yesterday and judging by the bags under your eyes, it’s evident you haven’t slept at all.” Gertrude said dryly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon frowned and opened his mouth to protest, to tell his boss that he was fine and he could work perfectly well through the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Gertrude fixed him with a stern glare, however. “Jonathan Sims, I mean it.” She said slowly and Jon swallowed thickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” He said and cleared his voice. “Right…” He mumbled before he rose to his feet and walked out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon both Jon and Sasha were gone and she was alone in her office with the door closed, Gertrude turned her attention to the tape recorder and began to voice her thoughts about the statement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had barely finished her last thought when Gertrude felt a cold chill down her spine, but she didn’t let down her guard and then she Knew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Suppose I should thank you then?” She stated into the seemingly empty room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a chuckle, which sounded more distorted than what a normal voice should sound like and it was impersonated of a young man who once existed. “Friend Sasha was worth saving, Archivist.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude turned a cold gaze to the Distortion, who just invited itself into her office through a yellow door which had suddenly appeared out of thin air. “I assume you’re proud of yourself then.” She said and returned to her files, taking a look at Jon’s notes in his cursive and neat penmanship. “I suppose I am in your debt now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There are no more assistants to feed Us since you gave us your Michael.” The Spiral grinned. “But you did ruin Our little ritual, though.” It said in mock consideration. “But friend Sasha is very smart, she wanted to Know so badly and We played along.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude smirked, although it held no joy or warmth in it. “Saving first Adelard, then Sasha...I’d almost think you’re up to something, Distortion.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, We are very interested in how this will go.” Michael chuckled and Gertrude had never liked how his laughter echoed in it’s own twisted and well, distorted way. “Something is going to happen. Of course, nothing would please Us to see the Archivist meet the end. But a storm is coming and there is one more Archivist in the game!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That made her frown and lose her cool. “There is no other Archivist, Michael.” She said venomously. “I am the Archivist for the moment, no one else is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The tiny little man is very Beholding.” The Distortion remarked with another chuckle and a smile that just widened even more than it should’ve been possible. “We only know because We saw it. The little Archivist hungered to Know and then he Beheld!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, that wasn’t good. Gertrude realized with a cold horror that Jon has grown far too close to the Eye now and which was why she originally didn’t want him to listen to Sasha’s statement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Regardless, he is under my protection and he will remain like that.” Gertrude sneered at the Spiral. “But if the Distortion requires any favor, then I will deal with that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not sacrificing any more innocent, ignorant assistants, Archivist?” It asked coyly. “What if...there are more Rituals to stop?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude glared. “There are always alternative solutions, Michael. If you don’t have anything better to do than to taunt me, then leave!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Distortion did leave, but not before laughing in it’s twisted way as It vanished behind the yellow door and soon, that vanished as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes she just didn’t have enough coffee for this. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It went a couple of days. Dekker returned soon with what Gertrude hoped would be good news.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alas, not better news, I’m afraid.” He stated as they met in her office, once again taking the chance while the assistants were busy. “I have gotten my hands on records, although everyone I have spoken with had almost forgotten her as if it’s been decades since they last saw her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you find?” Gertrude said instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I went to the source and found the researcher Dave up in the library, he was far too eager to tell me about her.” Adelard said and dug from his bag a folder. “The girl is named Jennifer Matilda Blackwood. Half Jewish on her mother's side, just like Martin, I suppose.” He stated as he opened the folder and showed it for Gertrude on the desk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The head archivist read through it, the eyes behind the glasses peering at the files. It was mostly background files about her. The mother had a chronic illness, currently staying at a care home in Devon. The father left them when the child wasn’t yet two year old.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude hated that kind of men. Useless, pathetic excuses who bailed on their family when life wasn’t good enough for them anymore. Martin couldn’t be more than eight, perhaps nine if she judged by the date. Poor lad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jenny’s background was...interesting. Six year old, she had gotten lost in the forest near her home village and came back in panic, telling a so-called tall tale about a “circus of spiders”. The police dismissed it as a child’s imagination, possibly traumatized by the finding of a dead boy in her age range who was encased in web.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suspect the Web.” Adelard said seriously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm...there was an odd Web activity up in northern England around that time.” Gertrude said when she thought for a while. “Perhaps you remember I sent Michael Shelley to investigate to follow up a similar case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard nodded. “I recall that. You never told about the entities, but he never doubted in you. He told you that a little girl had come unscratched, didn’t he?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yet, he never mentioned the girl by name.” Gertrude concluded and sighed. “This may be the same girl. However, here says there was another incident some years later. She appears to be ten, maybe eleven by then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have read it.” Adelard confirmed and frowned in concern. “Her tale is far more detailed about this event. It’s not uncommon to fall through ice during winter, but the way she tells her experience…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude suspected foul play at this. “This girl is marked by several entities, Adelard. First the Web, because spiders have a sick thing about playing with children. When she fell through this ice, she had been victim to both the Dark, the Buried and the Vast.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Already marked by four entities…” Adelard sighed. “When I read these police reports, which were dismissed as fantasies and lies by the way, I worry more for what can have happened to the poor girl.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing else here is to note. As of medical records, she is diagnosed with autism and the doctors suspect she may carry the same chronic illness as her mother.” Gertrude remarked as she scanned through the rest. “Rest of her background isn't of much importance, although it appears her brother has raised her by himself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gertrude, it may be time to inquire Martin about his sister.” Adelard suggested. “Those I have gone around and interviewed. Doctors, past teachers and neighbors...all of them had a slight struggle to remember her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...have you asked her mother?” Gertrude suddenly said and her eyes grew colder. “A mother should keep track of her children, grown up or not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed, not a good sign. “I did. While she has her daughter in remarkably fresh memory…” Adelard began before he hesitated momentarily. “Gertrude. I have never met someone so bitter and hateful before. She hates her children, by God!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Child abuse.” Gertrude said and looked at the file, staring at one of the photos of Jenny Blackwood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> It was a picture of a little toddler in twin braids and a pink dress with suspenders, who held a possibly nine year old Martin’s hand. They looked very much alike, both wearing orange curls on their heads, chocolate brown eyes and freckles that spread over their noses and cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cruelty often happens to victims, whose fears these entities feast on.” Gertrude started. “Then there are ordinary humans, who relishes in causing their own kin pain because they are too much of cowards to pick up their own pieces.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard shook his head, deeply disturbed by the findings he had learnt. “She denied everything, of course. A woman who despises her own children is a sad business. However, this proves that there are two living persons who know about the girl’s existence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As far as you've gathered to me, the Extinction has not yet emerged, so that might be why she is still remembered.” Gertrude concluded. “However, now is the time to consult Martin about his sister. I will personally tend to this matter, to find out if he remembers a sister or not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard nodded. "I will continue to look for clues about the girl, then." <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“According to these files, she went to King’s College before she vanished. Check with any of the professors who had her.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Will do.” He said as he went for the door. “Be safe, Gertrude. We don’t know yet when Prentiss will lay siege on your Archives.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gertrude scoffed. “Like I will let the Corruption prey on my assistants without consequences?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It happened while Gertrude was out. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jon had been recording another statement while Gertrude was off investigating something. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There is an important assignment that I must follow up by myself. I highly doubt you four can’t handle yourselves.” She had said before she left.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In the middle of his recording, Jon happened to notice a spider and when he killed it, the wall collapsed and then…</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The worms came. The assistants were alone and realized they were entirely without Gertrude’s protection.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Prentiss was here and they were alone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&gt;:3</p><p>I actually had this chapter already done for some days ago, but it seemed too soon to post it, so I decided to wait.</p><p>Dun dun DUUUUUUUN! Cliffhanger! Prentiss is attacking and in this chapter, Sasha has met MIchael! Gertrude is a little cautious about it because if y'all remember, she did fed her assistant to the Spiral. </p><p>Also Dekker had to meet Mrs. Blackwood about her daughter. It seems like she does remember, but it's not...good memories. I feel like we should pity Dekker to handling that.</p><p>But oh noes, the assistants are alone and being attacked by evil worm lady! What will happen?! D:</p><p>Find out in the next chapter!</p><p>Lunan out!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Poor unfortunate archival assistants...and a researcher</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which Prentiss attacks while Gertrude is out, investigating the mystery of Martin's lost sister and finds an old relic she never thought she'd see again. Meanwhile, the assistants struggle to survive and Dave the researcher is involved into the chaotic disaster.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A small house stood abandoned and Gertrude looked at the sign at the front lawn, with faded print. Either it was for sale...or it wasn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that hard to find the childhood home of Martin, it was right there in some personal files where he used to live. And presumably the home of Jenny Blackwood as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude entered the house, it was drafty and empty. Not surprising when it seems like no one has lived here for years. For what she knew, Martin moved to London when he became employed at the Institute which was around 2009.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mother moved to the care home in Devon a couple of years before. 2007, perhaps?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Jenny Blackwood truly existed, then that must mean that Martin brought her with himself to London. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Archivist took her time to look around, seeking for maybe a hidden truth that could be needed. The living area was probably not an answer and as she looked around in the small kitchen, no clue either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude avoided the master bedroom as there was something that told her that room nearly reeked of a malicious energy. Hence the Beholding rather told her this, since the Hunt was more adapted to scents of other entities.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The master bedroom was filled with the energy of the Desolation. That made her wonder what kind of person was their mother? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Judging of Adelard who was disturbed by the woman, Gertrude felt perhaps it was lucky he went rather than her. She didn’t trust that she could’ve kept her temper in check. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So she went past the door and went to another room. It was smaller than the master bedroom, but she Knew this was a child’s bedroom. Possibly two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt...Lonely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Contrast to the bigger one, this bedroom felt so Lonely and sad. Gertrude entered the room and looked around. She noticed a few scribbles on the wall to left and she went to investigate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was faint, drawn with a pencil, but it was there. A child’s doodle of a simplified girl with pigtails and skirt. The face was drawn with a sad frown and scribbled tears running down the face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude understood this was another proof of Jenny’s existence. It also gave a stronger clue for child abuse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when she stepped on a floorboard that was too loose. Gertrude narrowed her eyes in thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course...children sometimes hide things in loose floor planks. A very old-fashioned way to hide your most precious belongings and especially things you want to keep away from parents.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pried it open and found a treasure hide of a child’s possessions. Inside the hole in the floor, there were several things that might belong to Jenny. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small, wooden chest. A sketchpad with yellowed pages. A box of crayons. And…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude stared at a very familiar jacket, which she hadn’t seen since 1998. It was a bomber jacket in a color block design and it was colored in purple and sea green. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> had belonged to one of her original assistants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Michael’s jacket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That had been his favorite, Michael never went without it. He had said he lost it in the dry cleaner. Did he lie? Why would the most treasured of his belongings be among a child’s hide?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude instead opened the little chest and found a child’s “treasures”. A small stone, white and smooth. A tiny bouquet of flowers, it was forget-me-nots and primroses. Some developed photos. A little feather of a bird. A wooden yoyo in yellow and a handmade necklace of colorful pearls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lastly, she picked up the sketchpad and looked at the pictures. It...disturbed her, greatly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first few drawings were mostly of a little girl holding a boy in her hand. But then one drawing, heavily contrasted with the happiness of a little sister, showed a spider.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But not just a spider. This picture showed her some kind of fusion between a spider and a person which seems to look like a clown ringmaster with feminine appearances. An unholy mixture between the Web and the Stranger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next pages displayed Jenny, drawn in a simple child’s artstyle, being entangled into the webs of a “spider circus”. This served as the girl’s diary, telling of a horrible adventure she barely survived. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As far Gertrude understood of this, Jenny had survived an encounter with the Web. A feat not many would’ve done and especially not children. It had tried to ensnare her in it’s webs, but another boy, who had followed her, had been taken instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the last picture of this adventure showed little Jenny with a tall man with curly blonde hair and a happy smile, spelt with “Micheal”. Not spelt correctly, of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude decided to bring the things she had found. It was time to head back to the Institute, she had left her assistants for far too long and they were somewhat of a disaster, especially if an avatar of the Corruption was running around and targeting them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re heading back, Adelard.” Gertrude said as she returned to the car. “They have been alone for too long now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” He said and started the car. “Gertrude, that jacket-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s evidence now.” Gertrude snapped. “I have a reason to believe that Jenny Blackwood is more than she seems to be, Adelard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so they drove back to London, not knowing how everything was already a chaotic disaster there.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Gertrude was out on her private field investigation, her assistants was fighting murderous flesh worms with great risks to their lives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?!” Sasha screamed, trying to run back from the hive of worms coming pouring from the hole in the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon tried to reach for his tape recorder without touching the army of worms. “Almost…” He muttered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha yelled at him. “Leave it, it’s not-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got it!” Jon shouted in triumph, holding the tape recorder in his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door then opened, a horrible timing. “Guys? Is everyth- OH CHRIST!” It was Martin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up and get the extinguishers!” Jon shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin broke his horrified expression from the worms. “What?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The CO2!” Get the goddamn CO2!” Jon shouted at him while Martin repeated “right” all over. “NOW!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin got his hands on an extinguisher and started to spray at the attacking worms. “There’s too many!” Martin cried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just keep spraying!” Sasha added. The CO2 may keep the worms away, but for how long?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon looked back at them, clutching the tape recorder to his chest. “We need to go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where?!” Sasha said, desperate to flee, and then cursed under her breath. “Damn…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon stammered out his words, insecure and on the verge of panicking himself. “Uh...I just...l-let me think!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha prompt asked Martin if he could see Prentiss and maybe spray her, but alas, he didn’t. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Both of them shouted for Jon to do something because he was in charge if Gertrude was gone and Jon was nearly having an anxiety attack, he didn’t know what to do anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Martin suddenly took charge. “This way, come on!” He screamed at them and ran towards the document storage. “Come this way! This way!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span><br/><br/>“LOOK OUT!” Jon screamed as they were pursued by the worms.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon sat inside the document storage, it was well sealed against the worms and protected them from harm. But the downside was that they were trapped and no cellular signal reached them, so no one could call Tim who was out on lunch or Gertrude to tell her to come back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was around the time in which Jon confessed his insecurities about being the main assistants, he was afraid of failing at his supposed work and disappointing Gertrude whom he had begun to view more as family than he had ever had in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know...I think I also view her as that.” Martin said as soon Jon finished, waiting for the reactions. “I know Gertrude seems a little cold and...stand-offish. But I can tell she really cares.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Sasha said after a moment. “She’s better than she seems to be. I mean, I miss my moms like crazy and when Gertrude is around, I get the same feeling as if they were here with me. And I know Tim thinks the same.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope he doesn’t come here...” Martin suddenly said, he had at some point stood up and looked through the glass of the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon looked up at him. “Martin, what can you see out there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well...I can’t see Prentiss anywhere, but I can see the worms. But it looks like they have retreated, just backed up and-oh no...there’s Tim!” He shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh God, he doesn’t see them!” Sasha exclaimed, all of them were standing up and staring through the small window (although Jon clung to Martin’s shoulders since his leg was injured).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin and Sasha shouted and yelled for Tim to catch his attention, but to no avail. “Tim! Tim! Tim! Tim! Look out!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He can’t hear you, it’s soundproof-” Jon started.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Tim! Just run, leave it alone!” Sasha shouted when Tim was picking up the tape recorder Jon had dropped on the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin whimpered when a dark, looming shadow came closer to Tim. Prentiss! “Oh God...there she is. There she is!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just turn around, just turn around!” Sasha called out. But Tim heard nothing and she had enough. “Ah, screw this!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Sasha, NO!” Jon shouted, but his warning came too late. Sasha pulled the door opened and dashed out.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“TIM, LOOK OUT!” Sasha screamed out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch out for the tape-” The mentioned tape recorder fell onto the floor, along with Jon and Martin who scrambled to get back into safety while Sasha had already ran into the danger to save Tim.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim, meanwhile, had no idea of the danger and when he got back from his lunch (which was a really nice burger), he found the tape recorder on the floor inside Gertrude’s office. “Is this still working?” He spoke out loud and noticed the tape was recording.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when he decided to make a fun little prank on Jon, who usually recorded these. “Test, test. What are you doing on the floor?” He wondered. “Alright.” He grinned and made his best imitation of Jon. “Statement of Joe Spooky, regarding sinister happenings in the downtown old-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“TIM, RUN!” Sasha’s voice suddenly interrupted him, she scrambled out from the document storage in panic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sasha?” Tim asked, confused. “Wha-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“BEHIND YOU! RUN!” She shouted at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim then turned around and saw a sight he’d never forget. There was Prentiss with skin greenish grey, filled with holes where worms infested in her, and black unwashed hair that framed her face. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh....” He whispered in a small voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do….you...hear...their...song…?” Prentiss’s voice said, raspy and hoarse over the swarm of worms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“TIM!” Sasha cried out and she tackled Tim to the ground, accidentally knocking a bookshelf between them and Prentiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out from some boxes, canisters of CO2 rolled out and Sasha quickly grabbed one. “Tim, take one! The worms die if you spray them!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right!” Tim had never acted any faster before in his life, his hands already on another red canister and he started to spray on Prentiss and the worms. “Sasha, get help!” He shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got it!” Sasha yelled at him back, she already ran out of the door to the exit with both a CO2 extinguisher and the tape recorder in hand. “Damn it!” She cursed for herself and ran towards the fourth floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias has to know this!</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Sasha told Elias everything (which she has to repeat because someone was skeptical and utterly useless to the situation), they triggered on the fire alarm and all a researcher knew was panic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone thought it was a fire going on, but Dave Cavanaugh didn’t smelt any smoke going on. While everyone else panicked and running out from the Institute, he had been suspicious to the matter and tried to look for someone to get answers from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when he accidentally stumbled onto someone from the Archives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“MIss James, what’s going on?” He said as he helped up Sasha. “And don’t say it’s a fire because I smell no smoke or anything!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha hesitated, but Dave has always been one of the greatest friends they had up in Research and he had always provided the best information to access. “Okay, you’re not gonna believe me! But there’s an infestation of killer worms down in the Archives! CO2 is the only thing that can kill them!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bloody hell!” Dave exclaimed. “Of course I believe it! I had to research the Amherst case after all, nasty business.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have to take shelter, Dave!” Sasha shouted over the fire alarm’s noises. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where is Gertrude? I thought she was gonna be here and defend you guys!” Dave cried out. “I believe in this stuff, that’s why Jenny is gone!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jenny? Who’s-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin’s sister! And don’t tell me who, I KNOW she exists and she is alive!” Dave shouted over the loud alarms. “Tell you what, we talk about it later!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, but take shelter-Oh GOD!” Sasha screamed when they reached the Archives and there were worms everywhere. “DAVE, RUN!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Dave ran for his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude and Adelard had barely left the parking lot when employees of the Institute were gathering in a mass outside the building and paramedics were on place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cold fury rose in her. “That son of a bitch…” She muttered. “So much for trusting that waste of a suit to guard them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodness, have the Corruption taken their chance while we were out?” Adelard muttered. “Gertrude, try to secure your assistants. I’m going to get a hazmat suit and stop this Prentiss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well. Make it quick.” Gertrude snapped and headed for a secret entrance to the Institute which only she knew about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’d be damned if she was gonna let these stupid idiots die on her watch.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought the wall was meant to be solid?!” Martin cried out as something tried to beat it’s way into their sanctuary. Something strong and heavy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Could Prentiss really be that vengeful and persistent?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So did I!” Jon answered back. “But we don’t have any sort of weapon, do we?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No-I mean, suppose we could-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say the corkscrew!” Jon snapped and Martin nodded with a small “okay”. How many of them are outside the door?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I can’t see because the window is covered in worms!” Martin shouted back over the fire alarm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right. Right.” Jon muttered and his eyes widened as the banging became louder than perhaps the fire alarm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scrambled back, feeling his back against a solid wall and with Martin by his side. THis was it, he was going to die here along with Martin and all because he didn’t have the decency to notice something was off when Martin was gone for two weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn. Well, Martin…” His voice trembled as he held onto Martin, bracing for the end. “I think this is it-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>CRASH</strong>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wall finally broke, the plasterboard and tile shattered and there, in the middle of the whole disaster, was…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, guys!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tim?<br/></span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Tim?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell? I thought you...how did you-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He made it!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, I struggled a lot with the chapter and especially when I'm trying to make updates every wednesday and perhaps saturdays. That might work for a good updating system.</p><p>Now, I didn't include Jon and Martin's "ghost" discussion because it will appear later in a flashback. Always save the best to last, lads.</p><p>Dave is an original character, much as Jenny. But he's important to the story and is an off-screen good friend to the archival team. What's gonna happen in the next chapter...well, you'll see.</p><p>As for now, I'm gonna rest my poor fingers until I get the next one up to saturday, so make sure you'll keep an eye out for that!</p><p>Once again, thank you for all the comments, bookmarks and kudos. You guys are champs!</p><p>-Lunan95</p><p>PS. Michael's jacket is very important about Jenny's arc and YES, he did lie about losing it. More about it later. ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Infestation and Replacement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The thrilling continuation of Prentiss' attack at the Institute where Tim managed to regroup with Jon and Martin and take shelter down in the tunnels below the archives, Gertrude managed to lead Sasha in safety and take on Prentiss along with Dekker. In the middle of all mayhem, someone get <i>Replaced</i> by the Stranger.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Funny story, really!” Tim chuckled as he stumbled through the hole he just made and swayed unsteady on his feet. “I ran into the office-worms everywhere, horrible death and everything- tripped and fell in some boxes and there were like 20 cans of gas in there!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He set down a big red canister of CO2 on the floor for emphasis, still loopy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are-are you alright?” Martin voiced his concerns. Tim didn’t look too good, judging from how he swayed on his feet for a moment and still acted like he was very high. “You seem a bit…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Fine!” Tim chimed cheerfully. “Gas...bit lightheaded. Not a lot of ventilation in the tunnels. Come on!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon stared dumbfounded at him. “In-into the tunnels?” He was confused and seriously concerned about Tim’s mental state. He may have inhaled too much CO2…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Tim gave a long sigh of impatience and frustration, but yet in good nature. “Actually, not that many worms in there anymore. I think they’ve mostly gone into the Archive. Although the ones down here are faster for some reason.” He said and tilted his head at the side. “And quieter.” He added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not bitten, are you?” Jon asked worriedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t think so!” Tim said. “Have a look!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin squeaked when Tim undid his trousers in front of them before they could stop him. Jon stammered, embarrassed over his stripping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes, alright Tim, you look fine!” Jon quickly said. Put them back on, please…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim chuckled as he pulled up his trousers again and fasted the button. Yes, he was absolutely still loopy as hell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin, in meantime, turned to Jon. “Can you walk, Jon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can limp.” Jon remarked dryly as he gestured to his bleeding leg.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s go!” Tim strapped the CO2 canister on his back with a couple of ropes he found in a random box, and probably planned to use the hose with the nozzle to aim at any worms or in the worst case, Prentiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin let Jon lean at him for support and they started to head to the “tunnels” Tim talked about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin, can you hand me my tape recorder?” Jon asked</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure. I think it’s running out, though.” Martin nodded, taking the tape recorder in his other hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon sighed. “Fine. I suppose I can turn it back on when we’re being eaten alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> you have a second tape recorder, Martin?” Tim asked curiously. Jon was also curious because...yes, why did Martin have a second recorder at all? It was him and Gertrude who recorded the statements, after all. And he highly doubted Gertrude is aware of Martin recording...whatever he did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um...well, I’ve been using it to record myself.” Martin blushed red as his hair color. “I write poetry and I think the tapes have a sort of...lo-fi charm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was dead quiet. Tim and Jon stared at Martin, they had no words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At last, Jon said…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And they went on their way.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deep in the Artefact Storage, someone pressed “record” on a tape recorder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But was it a tape recorder from Gertrude’s office? No, this was another one. It was smaller, perhaps made in the 90s. It was much easier for handheld and it was mainly yellow with some black accents. A tape started to roll and whirr, the only sound in the storage which was dead as in the grave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-is this recording?” His voice asked, it was a young man’s voice with a hint of Iriish accent. “Right...this is Dave Cavanaugh, researcher at the Magnus Institute. Jenny, I know this is your tape recorder, but I found it on the floor here when I was hiding from...oh God, how do I even begin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dave’s hand trembled, but he tried to stay strong. “This Prentiss thing attacks the Institute and aims for the Archives. I met Sasha on the way and she told me what was going on. It’s some sort of a worm...thing that used to be human, but isn’t anymore and my God, it’s horrible and she attacked while the Head Archivist, Gertrude Robinson, was out!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She's looking for you, Jenny. Her friend, Mr. Dekker came to the Research floor and asked me what happened to you because everyone seems to forget about you now. Except me and Martin.” Dave told the tape record in a hushed tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Jenny...what happened to you? You just vanished one day. And you always said “never say goodbye”. But Jenny...have you ever thought about what happens if you vanish and then don’t say goodbye? That can screw up anyone, mentally! No wonder Mr. Bouchard is such a prick nowadays.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat there and listened to the tape’s whirring. “He really loves you. I can tell. Remember when Mr. Bouchard came by at the library, when I helped your research? He looked at you with that look and I think he doesn’t think I saw it, but he held your hand in his. It looked so...tender. His eyes were softer too. I’d almost think that you’re his long lost love or something.” Dave chuckled weakly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cleared his voice. “But then you became obsessed by finding that weird mirror you saw in a book. Some strange mirror that was in one of the oldest statements of the Institute.” He pondered and continued. “You got all weird when you looked at the statement, reading it and then you said...Jonah. Did you mean the founder, Jonah Magnus?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dave inhaled sharply, which echoed in the place. “I’ve always hated this place...Sasha has always complained about it when she first joined the Institute. I remember that, she talked about some memory book. Poor Sasha always looked so...terrible.” Dave sighed heavily. “Why do they even keep stuff here? Any sceptic would run off if this became public, but it’s just...hidden from sight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not from you, though. Never from you. I remember Mr. Bouchard often asked you to go on missions, find artefacts and what else.” Dave remarked as he reflected on more memories. “I don’t understand what you see in him. Never understood romance at all. But you looked so happy and I was happy for you. I hope the mirror you chased didn’t swallow you-wait…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dave rose onto his feet and walked closer to what he saw. Closer and closer. There, in the center of the storage, stood the table he’s heard Tim complain about. “Oh...it’s the table that got delivered. Rosie was absolutely bewildered about those two big guys who delivered it here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dave kept speaking into the tape recorder. “I wonder what’s so special about it, the pattern seems like an optical illusion and looks like...spider webs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh...Oh! Jenny, I think someone’s here. But I see nothing at all.” His voice started to tremble, beginning to panic. “Is anyone there?!” He shouted. “I know you’re there! Show yourself!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was when the air was filled by a high pitched static, growing distorted and what became of Dave….</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He screamed that his voice nearly cracked and the little tape recorder fell to the floor, clattering loudly.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words were warped. </span>
  <b>
    <em>"̴̝͎͈̖̬̰̻̥̥͕̲̦͙̮̣̱̻͒̓͆͜I̸͎̣͔̥̪̲̝̟̞͔̰̞͌̿̇ͅͅs̶̛͍̖͇̳̻̬͔̩͚̠̯̄̾̇̒̊̽͌͑̽̀͑̈́͐͝ ̴͕͕̙̞̰̆ą̵̧̡̭̮̹̰̻͔͍̜̖̝͕͙̞̕̚n̶̺̥̑͛̊̅̀̔̆̈́̔͆̆̈͊̇͝y̶̧̡̝̫͍̥̺̩̰͔̙͐̐̈́̊̂̕͝o̵̧̨̨̰̝̱̠̺͕͑̿̃͆ͅņ̵͍̬͙̺͓͇̅͋̾̏̔͒̊̿ͅę̵̛̼̯͍͖͈̻̣̽͌̒͆̓̋̚͘͝ ̶̡͚͉̗̳̖̝͇̥̺̳̠̊́̈́̔̒̌͋̿͌̾͛̽͜ͅt̸̨̹̮͕̫̳̳̬̟͕̄̇̔̕͘ḧ̸̡̯̖͔̙́͌͌̃̂́̿͂̎͛͋͗͌͂͠è̵͚̱̗̱̓͑r̶̨̡̦̭̺͎̫̫̰͇͉̲̞̖̣̹͈̽̇̽͌̈́̓̀̊͝͝͠ę̸͔̦̜͔̥̞̃͛̽?̵̛̘̗̠̼̙̈́̃̓̍̓̎̑̈́̀̾̏͘̚̕̕͝"̶̛̞̗̼̟̦̹̜̘̆͋̉̉̇̈́</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>"̵͕̘͒̌̆̕͝S̷̡̞͚̻̱̞͖͑̋͛͜ĥ̵̛̥̭̺̱͍̝̔̌͒͆́ȏ̷̻̈̄̅̄̐̈̕w̵̲̖̣͎͔̆̂̾̈́̏ͅ ̶̘͓̳̓̒̆͂̎̐͑͑y̶̧̬̩͖͔̪͖̜͊̅͛̄̒͠͝ô̷͕̪̼̹̲̳͔̿͗ű̷͓͕̿̅̄́̚͝r̵̭̖̎ŝ̵͚͐̓̕ȇ̷̥̤͍͒̃͌͒̍̒l̷̰͖̍f̸̠̝̣̻̎̈́.̵̤͇͋̾͂͑̿"̸͍͍̹̳͈͑</b>
  <span> The words were turning clearer until the distortion in the voice completely vanished, sounding normal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it was not his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Show yourself.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The new voice said with a dry chuckle and the tape turned off.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s recording again now!” Sasha exclaimed. “I didn’t press the button.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It does it sometimes.” Gertrude remarked. “Sasha, this is not the strangest thing you’ll see as assistant now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But what is really going on?!” Sasha asked, frustrated by getting no answers at all. “First Martin gets attacked by Prentiss, then this Michael turned up out of nowhere and...talked to me, wanted to be a friend. And now we’re being attacked by some weird living worm hive!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was in the last minute Gertrude managed to catch Sasha from going into the Artefact Storage for shelter. There was the Head Archivist, dressed up in a hazmat suit and spraying CO2 from a fire extinguisher at a new wave of murderous worms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adelard, also sporting a hazmat suit, went to save the boys from Prentiss who lurked in her office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Great, now they had to spray pesticide on the entire Archives. But bonus side of this crazy event, Elias gets to do something about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gertrude, just tell us what’s happening!” Sasha insisted. “I must know-!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you really, Sasha?” Gertrude interrupted her and fixed her with a stern look. “Do you really think you must know what is happening?” Sasha fell silent, not daring to protest. “You will learn many things in my archives, Sasha and I can warn you for one thing. Don’t desire knowledge to sate your curiosity, like how you drink water because you’re thirsty. When you are ready, you will know. Until then, I ask you to trust me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes, Gertrude.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now...are you harmed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I kept running from the worms, but I feel very dizzy and ready to collapse on the floor. It feels like my brain is being soaked in an exhausted fog.” Sasha confessed, the answer flew out of her mouth automatically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude nodded. “Go outside. I can promise you’ll see your friends soon. See the paramedics first because you’ve inhaled too much CO2, which was also dumped onto you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-okay…” Sasha sighed and stumbled upstairs to the entrance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude made sure she was taken to custody by the paramedics outside and headed back inside. Now...she had a Prentiss to deal with now.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deep in some tunnels beneath the Archives and where the silence was only interrupted by the sound of dripping water and a tape recorder turned on. “Update. I don’t know how long we’ve been down here.” Jon began narrating into the recorder. “These tunnels are a maze, and we don’t know where we are. We have four of the-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martin is gone!” Tim interrupted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m getting to that!” Jon snapped back, trying to keep his balance without falling over since the limp in his injured leg was getting worse. Tim was doing a good job so far to aid him. “Martin has disappeared. Tim was right about there being fewer worms down here, but they are much faster. More aggressive. None of us have been hit yet but… during one of the more alarming encounters, Martin ran off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim looked at the main assistant, concerned for their vanished friend. “He thought we were behind him, I think.” He voiced his worries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t think at all.” Jon remarked back and unspoken, it was nothing against Martin. Hell, anyone would’ve panicked and ran off if they were in Martin’s shoes, who already had a trauma from these blasted worms. “Tim was with me, and my leg slowed me down. He must have taken a turn we didn’t see or something. We lost him. But, Tim has managed to find what looks to be an actual trapdoor, so…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon hesitated for a moment before he continued. “We won’t need to bludgeon our way through any more drywall. I’m recording this in case -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In case the trapdoor opens back into the Archives and Prentiss is there to kill us.” Tim added without the usual cheer. His mood has quickly dampened. “Jon, you think Sasha’s safe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe…” Jon said slowly. “I earnestly hope that she found Elias and managed to get everyone out. If I escaped from the worms, that’s what I would’ve done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sasha’s smart, she can take this.” Tim said with renewed hope. “But back to the part about the trapdoor and Prentiss might wait to brutally murder us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In as many words, yes Tim?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Tim nodded and he pushed the trapdoor above them up, letting light flood them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bright lights nearly hurt their eyes and also their ears when they were met by the high-pitched sound of the fire alarm…and then the alarming noise of something writhing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Ȃ̸̝ȓ̷̳̙c̴̣̆h̶̢̬͠ĩ̴͈̈́v̸͚͂î̵̳ṣ̸́t̴̛̻͇.̵̓</b>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” Tim exclaimed, all blood drained from his face in horror and Jon’s eyes widened as he saw the horrible sight of Jane Prentiss...looming right over them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” Jon mumbled, his hands started to tremble violently. He didn’t know what to do. He had no plan...</span>
  <em>
    <span>he didn’t know what to do! They were gonna die die die die die-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Corruption. Kindly step away from the lads.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Adelard Dekker, in a hazmat suit and there he stood, fearlessly against the entity that was formerly known as Jane Prentiss who turned her attention to the intruder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Ỷ̸̧̧̞̩̳̦͈̭̩̟̲̲̘͕̪̰̀̈́̂̕̕ò̷̢͍͕̼̗̩̱̣̮͈̑͂̈́͠u̴̡̿̔u̴̡̗̦̝̓͊̍͋̆͗̏̉̆͘ư̸͈̫̮̣̪͒̑͋̈̈́͛͝u̵̡̨̢̬͓̟̙̪̼͕̱͍͖̱̯͋͐͒̕ͅů̵̲͙̦̲͌̉̈̃͆̅͒͒̋̄̈̕͘͝͝!̶̦̗͚̣̳̈́̈́̂̋̄̒̌͆̍́̚ͅ</b>
  <span>” Prentiss hissed at Mr. Dekker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dekker glared. “Yes. Me. Now, step away from the boys or do I have to make myself clear?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim stared at Mr. Dekker with starstruck eyes and his mouth formed a small “o” in amazement. Jon has to agree with Tim in this case.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, lads.” Dekker suddenly said and then, he just kicked the trapdoor shut. Once again, Tim and Jon were in the dark of the tunnels while Dekker was fighting Prentiss above their heads. “This isn’t for young eyes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck my life…!” Tim grumbled irritated while Jon looked up against the shut trapdoor, only hearing such a violent brawl going on. What was going on? Was Mr. Dekker winning? Or was Prentiss finishing him off?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He has to know!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jon, wait-!” Tim was late to stop him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon pushed the trapdoor open enough to peek out and while the sight was limited, he saw as Dekker sprayed Prentiss with CO2 and now Gertrude, also in a hazmat suit, joined him and both fought Prentiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something calmed down in Jon. Gertrude was here. It would be alright. It would be okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa…” Tim whispered as he’s also joined Jon, peeking out at the battle between good and evil. “This is better than Netflix.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On my cue...NOW!” Dekker said. Then both he and Gertrude stepped back as the entire room was suddenly coated by CO2 everywhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon and Tim were coughing from the dust, it stung in the lungs and they couldn’t get fresh air anywhere. It even hurt the eyes and Jon felt tears running down his CO2-coated face, making him white which was in contrast to his natural skintone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their coughing must’ve caught the attention of Gertrude because Jon couldn’t clearly see her,  but he sure could hear how angry she was. “Why are they up here?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn it, I told them to stay down there!” Dekker cursed. “Well, take them out of here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Archives was then swarmed by a group of other hazmat suits judging of the yellow color, they started to spray down Prentiss and Jon was supported by...someone. His sight was bad, his mind was foggy and he couldn’t stop coughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt some kind of heat nearby and how he was led away from it. He could distinctly hear Tim’s violent coughing as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took a moment, maybe two. But then he felt the sweet, fresh air. Outside...they were outside the Institute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, those are my employees. Make sure they’ll get treatment, urgently!” It was Elias. He sounded...angry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jon! Tim!” Sasha. It was her voice, slightly coughing but not so bad as him and Tim. “Jon, don’t worry! I’m here too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A new voice joined. “Okay, sir. Can you hear me? What is your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“J-Jonathan S-Sims.” He coughed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Jon. You’re going to get a mask on your face, but don’t worry. It’s fresh oxygen. Try to calm down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-no, wait...m-my friend...he’s in t-there!” Something in Jon’s mind recalled. Martin. They hadn’t seen him since they got separated in the tunnels! “P-please, I h-have to find h-him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Calm down, sir. What is his name?” The paramedic (?) said soothingly and placed the mask over his mouth and nose. Jon could breathe again, the oxygen felt so fresh and sweet to his poor lungs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martin...Blackwood…” Jon said. “He’s in...the tunnels. Under the archives…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Jon. We just sent people in to find your friend. Don’t worry, the threat is now exterminated and soon, we’ll find your friend too.” The paramedic said. “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good…” Jon mumbled. His eyes were already closed, but they felt too heavy to open again. “...good…” He said before he gave into the inevitable and succumbed into the darkness of sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi everyone, Lunan here.</p><p>Don't worry, lads! Martin is okay. Just...lost in the tunnels and since there is no body to find...he just stumble on this old hobo librarian. Yup, that's a thing. They probably has tea or what else.</p><p>But RIP original Dave Cavanaugh. Poor lad, he just wanted to find his best friend! 😭</p><p>On other news, this is where the plot is really kicking in! *rubs hands* But we're far from done now, so much needs to be answered! </p><p>I'd also take a moment to thank all of the readers of this fic. All comments, bookmarks, kudos and hits wouldn't been possible without your love and support. A great, warm thank you to you all. ❤</p><p>I also try to make it a point to update every Wednesday, so be sure to tune in whenever a chapter is up. Also note that his chapter is one day late since I had a family matter to tend to yesterday. </p><p>See y'all real soon.</p><p>-Lunan95</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. When Nothing is The Same Anymore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The final chapter of part 1 of this story. Prentiss is dead, our heroes has survived against the odds and Gertrude takes her time to investigate the mystery of a lost girl while the Archives are being renovated.</p><p>But their adventures are far from over. No, this is only the beginning...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Next time when Jon woke up, he was still outside the Institute. But once he gained clear consciousness, his oxygen mask was removed and he answered the questions by the police. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t quite catch the name. Hussain, maybe?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude hadn’t been happy about the police questioning her assistants rather than to let them rest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon was willing to ignore that...until he overheard a few things between Gertrude and the police constable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-and every of your assistants are here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, every single one of them.” Gertrude said, a bit more hostile than usually. “Martin has returned, safe and sound. He’s just a bit disoriented for now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. Martin was here. They were all okay, everyone has survived. Perhaps they had gotten away with a few scars, but they lived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a question, miss Robinson. Considering your past assistants who either vanished or turned up dead-” It was another police officer, sounding older.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s well enough, police officer.” Gertrude scoffed. “Unless you have another question related to this incident?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s all. Thank you for your time, miss Robinson.” Constable Hussain finished and left with the other police officer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon had heard all about it. Her previous assistants? He thought they quit. Maybe retired because working in the Archive wasn’t such an exciting job...until now. His heart was beating fast, scared to know and yet, he desired that knowledge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He must know what happened to the other assistants, the ones before him. But could he trust Gertrude?</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude stood in what was left of the Archives, seeing how much damage was done. She tsk-ed as she stood in her office, seeing the total mess of scattered statements, dead worm remains and the significant hole in the wall to the document storage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim really had to make a dramatic entry, did he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re an idiot.” Gertrude snarled at the trapdoor which opened at ajar. “You do realize I might have to tell my assistant to keep quiet about you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why, Gertrude. You hurt me.” Jurgen said with mirth. “And I had a lovely time with young Martin. Perhaps he doesn’t look like it, but he is a very clever young man. He was ready to stab me with that corkscrew of his unless I spoke the truth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm. I underestimated him then.” Gertrude pondered. “But you have created a big mess out of this now. Martin won’t keep this secret from his friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind a nice introduction.” The old librarian said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Gertrude warned. “Elias is still lurking around. He’s far too interested in Jon, more than I’m comfortable with. He might already consider replacing me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do we really have to do this, Jon?” Elias asked, unamused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Everyone is accounted for and I need every statement on tape!” Jon snarled, already set his mind on not trusting anyone. The fact about the disappeared former assistants didn’t left his mind, festering with the itching desire to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you insist so. Gertrude has taught you well.” Elias said. “Remember that you need to go home and rest later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like a mummy. You need rest.” Elias pointed out dryly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon wouldn’t hear of it. “Our friends in those hazmat suits gave me a clean bill of health, bloody holes notwithstanding. And they seemed quite keen to quarantine anyone showing even the slightest sign of infection. It’s just pain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The paramedics said your lungs need fresh air. Tim’s as well-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve gotten more than enough, thanks to the oxygen masks.” Jon protested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was clear that Elias was growing tired of his attitude. “Jon, for Lord’s sake! She is gone! Jane Prentiss is dead. I went with the EDCD people when we took her away and I watched her body burn. You can relax.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t! That...stranger Martin met in those tunnels-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s just traumatized. It’s easy to be delusional when you’re lost, you’ve inhaled too much CO2.” Elias explained calmly. “It can be true that some kind of stranger may have helped him, but there was no one there when the police checked. These tunnels are abandoned, empty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martin is not delusional!” Jon nearly shrieked angrily. “He saw something and I’m gonna find out why after I have your statement!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elias fixed him with a disapproved glare, which made Jon shrink. He just shouted at his boss, the one who hired him and can fire him. “Calm down, Jonathan. You have just shouted at your superior, but I can let this slide because of today’s incident. Have a little faith.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon nearly jumped when Elias put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. “But I can give a statement, if that calms you.” He smiled, but Jon couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. “Ask away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling now? Okay?” Dekker asked Martin gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The younger man was draped in a blanket. Martin hadn’t been injured like Jon and Tim, but he was very shaken up. He kept his eyes down since he had stumbled in the darkness for quite some time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes, I’m okay…” Martin stammered. “Mr. Dekker...was it real? That old man I met down in the tunnels. Or was I just...delusional?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can’t know for sure since the police found no one there.” Dekker explained. “But if he was a figment of imagination, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Sometimes in our most critical moments, we get help from somewhere unexpected.” Dekker said with a smile. “Now that's what faith is about.” He added and pointed at a golden cross, at the end of his necklace he was wearing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Dekker...I didn’t know you were religious.” Martin mumbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, technically. But I lost it since...my sister disappeared. I mean, I don’t think I ever had the strength to believe in any God, but I lost her...it was gone for good.” Martin explained. “It’s weird...I think I’m starting to forget her face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dekker frowned. That wasn’t a good sign. According to what he had learned, the girl has been missing for more than a year. He still didn’t know if it was the emerging Extinction or something else. It can’t be the Stranger, he sealed that monster inside the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think she looks like me, though.” Martin said. “You know, orange hair. Curly. Brown eyes. Freckles on the cheeks, just below the eyes. I think she’s smaller than me, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martin, do you believe you’ll see your sister again?” Dekker finally decided to ask. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to believe so.” Martin replied. “She always said...to not say goodbye. And if you don’t say goodbye, you’re not gone. You’re just...not there right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dekker smiled. “It’s a nice thing to think about. I happen to believe that you will see your sister again. After all, there is no stronger bond than siblings.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what, we match now!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had one hole in my shoulder and now, some on my left arm.” Sasha scoffed playfully. “You have way more than me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sasha, must you bully an injured man like this?” Tim whined. “These are war scars-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t been in any war, Tim!” Sasha laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Against Prentiss!” Tim protested. “Her evil murdering worms should count as an army, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha shook her head in disbelief. “You have to joke about absolutely everything don’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah?” Tim shrugged, somehow looking sheepish with all that bandage on his face. “That’s how I cope with stressful situations. I just make everything a joke. Although I just wanted to lighten the mood with an itchy joke and they kept me for more tests!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you even expect?” Sasha asked. “It’s the ECDC, I don’t think they’d take a joke about that!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t hurt to try?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sasha rolled her eyes. “Well, jokes aside...I’m glad we lived.” Sasha said. “I panicked when I saw Prentiss behind you...and you just went to the tape recorder, how stupid is that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just checking why it was on the floor-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Liar.” Sasha scoffed. “Don’t you think when I dashed from the document storage, I heard what you said? Something about “sinister happenings” in the worst Jon imitation I’d ever heard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim chuckled and put his hands up, like some police were apprehending him. “Ouch, you got me there, Sash.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously though…” Sasha said and reached out for his hand, holding it in her own despite it was wrapped in bandages like a mummy. “I realized if you died and I couldn’t do anything...I’d regret the things we never said or did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim’s eyes gazed at her softly. “Me too, Sash…” He said tenderly. “Me too…”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The following weeks that occurred afterwards, the Archives was closed for renovation. Perhaps about time, as Gertrude remarked when Elias delivered the news.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a way, this gave her the perfect opportunity to do some research in the privacy of her home. A cup of tea (alas, not like how Martin usually makes it) and she settled down in her armchair, looking at the papers that still puzzled her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jennifer Blackwood. A lost girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Adelard had told her before they parted ways, had concerned her. Martin still recalled his sister, but he was beginning to forget how she looked. It was not a good sign.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But whether this could be a work of the Extinction or anything else, that remained to be seen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Early this morning, Adelard had left the country and travelled to the United States to bring back Gerard. The young man had always been remarkably good at finding out what they needed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although, Adelard was a little regretful about leaving without telling her young assistants. But duty always came first and they could complain once he had returned with Gerard in tow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, perhaps Gerard would come to like them? The assistants were in his age range, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, back to the main issue. Gertrude sighed and sipped on her tea, her eyes didn’t leave their focus on the text of the papers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ginger hair, cut short. Brown eyes. Freckles. Small, a little thin. How can no one else have seen this young girl, apart from her brother and the friend she had up in the Research department?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gertrude stopped her train of thought when she noticed something...interesting. There, in one of the more recent photos...she was wearing that sun necklace of what seemed like gold. The very same one from the video camera.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She searched a little more thoroughly. Jenny didn’t seem to own it before moving to London with Martin in 2009. A gift, perhaps? It was possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that was a clue, in any case. Something to keep an eye after.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Below the Archives, deep down in the darkest of tunnels and lurking in the shadows, were a mirror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was tall, made to show a full view of the user and encased in an antique frame of brass. It stood there, leaning against the hard surface of a stone wall. The glass was blank, pitch black as it could be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But there was a small hole in it’s center, barely noticeable and yet, it would deeply annoy it’s user for the mirror’s glass was not perfect nor whole. A little shard was missing and behind the glass…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hollow and empty, without any sign that the backside of the mirror even existed. If one was to keep silent, perhaps hold their breath and not make a single sound, they could hear the distant sounds of steps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There, inside the deepest of darkness behind the mirror’s glass surface and sealed beyond it, walked someone. Lost and quiet. Light, unsure footsteps stumbled in the darkness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“H̴̛̺̥̥̘͆e̸̲̒l̶̦̀̄ļ̸͖͝ơ̸̙̋?̶̡̛̞͈͉̓̉̕”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They kept walking and walking, without aim. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“I̶s̶ ̸a̶n̸y̴o̴n̸e̵ ̴t̴h̸e̷r̴e̶?̸”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voice were only slightly distorted, courtesy of the prison behind the glass wall. It was a young voice; a girl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“M̸͖̬̻̈́͘a̸̡̛̲͗ȓ̴̨̞̯̬͂͘t̸̮̠̥̺̾̒i̵͉̗͑́n̵̘͐͐?̴͎̦͋̀ ̴͎͙͔̽̌̿M̵̡̭̉ǎ̴̛̙̩͆͜r̶͍̬̤̱̔̐̽͋t̷̛̘͑̐̒i̵͈̜͎̣̅͠n̴̠͖̭̊̾̕,̷̱̮̊͛͝ ̴̧̍̋̈́͠ạ̴̔̇̽̽r̴̼̼̞̅̓̓͊ę̴̦̦͊̃̂̕ ̸̘͕̝̎͒̌̕y̸̨̼̙̜̒̌̿õ̷̖̤̩̳̆̑͗ú̵̼̜͐͐ ̴̱̍͝t̴̀͛ͅḣ̸̢̦͓͜e̸̩̗̟͝r̴̛̜̗̎̃e̷̖͍͆͑?̷̯͌͝”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no answer. Only her voice’s echo into the empty, black void without end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“M̵a̴r̸t̵i̴n̵, ̸I̷ ̷w̵a̴n̵t̵ ̷t̷o̸ ̵g̷o̶ ̶h̷o̵m̶e̶.̴”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was alone, sitting there in the darkness and looked down on her hands, no longer visible to her eyes.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Gertrude Robinson, Adelard Dekker and the four archival assistants will return in the second part of the series, <i>Ace of Hearts</i>. </p><p>I'd like to thank everyone who has followed this series so far and supported with all these kudos, comments, bookmarks and thanks to all of you, we have now reached above 3000 hits! Thank you all, I really appreciate.</p><p>If you liked this story, then don't forget to click subscribe for the series so you don't miss out any updates. </p><p>See you in part two of this story.</p><p>-Lunan95</p><p>PS; random information for anyone interested in fan-made cast.</p><p>Gertrude Robinson - Sue Sims</p><p>Jonathan Sims - Jonathan Sims</p><p>Martin Blackwood - Alexander J. Newall</p><p>Timothy Stoker - Mike LeBeau</p><p>Sasha James - Lottie Broomhall</p><p>Elias Bouchard - Ben Meredith</p><p>Adelard Dekker - Martin Corcoran</p><p>Jurgen Leitner - Paul Sims</p><p>Dave Cavanaugh - Bryn Monroe</p><p>Not!Dave - Martyn Pratt</p><p>Jenny Blackwood - Katie Davison</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was inspired by a discussion I was taking part in, at the TMA discord. </p><p>And I just realized that I didn't found a single "Gertrude Lives" AU, so I better fix that. This is, by the way, not a crack-fic as funny it might become. It's very serious and it has canon-typical horror, so there's that.</p><p>I hope you guys might like it.</p><p>Keep in mind there is gonna appear some of my original characters, but they will play important role in this story.</p><p>  <b>Lunan out! owo</b></p></blockquote></div></div>
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